Let Me Tell You A Secret
by ThisStrawberryIsYours
Summary: Ponygirl isn't your average greasy broad, though, secretly she wishes she was. Trying to be like "every other girl" will set her up for a life she isn't quite capable of handling.*Major AU*
1. Chapter 1

_Hello again! I have two other Outsider fics. One of them, __Here__, I will continue soon. The other,__ All I Wanted__, didn't receive any responses, so I will be dropping it. I hope you like this one. It's been toying around in my mind for some time, but I never had the motivation to actually start it. Please, if you have any comments or w/e, you know what to do ;p _

A/N: Okay! A few things:

1)This is a major AU.

2)The main character is basically Ponyboy, only Ponyboy is actually Ponygirl. That is correct! I have turned Ponyboy Michael Curtis into Ponygirl Michelle Curtis, also known as Girle. So, as such, you can imagine the story to go a little differently.

3)The time-line starts off the same as the book, but will start changing in the second chapter simply to make sense of my story. I promise that I will be returning to the book's timeline as the story progresses.

4)Girlie is going to be fifteen, not fourteen. Johnny and Soda will be 17. Everyone else will remain their original ages.

5)All the characters descriptions will be the same as in the book, with the exception of Girlie (duh) and Dally. I really like movie version Dally…Hmm…Matt Dillon.

5)Everything else is the same.

_That's All Folks! ( please, ignore any grammar mishaps you may stumble upon, thanks!) _

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**Chapter 1 ~**

When I stepped out into the street from the inside of the movie house, I had more than a few things on my mind: Paul Newman, a ride home, and why I waited this late to see a movie. The air was cool against my skin and stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky. I love the night, the quiet and serenity of it. A light breeze bustled slowly by me. Normally, I would savor the feeling of the wind coming in contact with my skin, but it was early spring and the weather was still slightly chilly. I pulled my jacket closer and turned to walk down the street, heading home before the sun disappeared completely and left me with the moon and flickering street-lamps as my only sources of light.

I wish the guys in Tulsa could be like Paul Newman. He was tough, but he usually had his reasons, not like the boys around here that just liked to pick fights for the heck of it. In his movies, there was always some sort of goal for him to conquer, and it almost always involved a girl. I snorted as I thought about the kind of girl guys like Paul Newman would face obstacles to be with; girls that were beautiful and built, had bodies that an average girl could only dream of. Those guys would never risk anything for girls like me, Greaser girls. We weren't the type of dames you would expect to be worth much of anything. Greaser girls wore too much makeup, swore too much, and wore their skirts at an inappropriate length. Not to mention, we were notorious sluts. It's true for the most part. But, not all of us were like that.

I wasn't like that.

My reflection stared back at me when I stopped in front of the glass windows of a barber shop. I wasn't bad looking, I guess. I had light-brown, almost-red hair that hung down to the middle of my back in large curls. My eyes were a greenish-gray, but I hated them; they betrayed me all the time. I could never keep anything to myself, not one feeling- my eyes would give it away. I started walking again, anxious to get home now that it was almost totally dark out.

A red Corvair drove slowly beside me. The boys inside whistled at me and yelled things that made me blush. They speed away but I walked faster, finally afraid of what could happen if I didn't get inside. I felt the blush on my cheeks slowly brighten when I thought about those boys and what they yelled. It still amazed me how much attention I was getting from the opposite gender.

Ever since I turned fourteen, boys had been starting to treat me different. They would do things like stare at me and whistle, ask me out on dates and try to hold my hand. I wasn't stupid, I knew what they liked about me- I do have two brothers and a gang full of boys, after all- but I didn't really understand what I was suppose to do about it. That seemed like forever ago. I've learned so much about what to do with a boy, how to do it, and even what they like. But no one seems to be able to tell me _why_. I'm not like the other Greaser girls, I had never…gone all the way with a boy. I mean, I have kissed boys and fooled around and stuff, but nothing else. I guess I was afraid of what my brothers would do if they ever found out. I tried not to smile at the image of Darry holding Curly Shepard by the collar for having his hand a little too high on my ribcage for Darry's liking, but the look on Curly's face was just priceless. Not that I blame him for being scared, Darry's kinda big. Not many guys asked me out for awhile after that.

I could see the lights from my house breaking through the darkness of the night. I breathed a sigh of relief. I stilled for a moment, though. It was late. Darry was gonna kill me. I groaned, wanting to shoot myself in the foot for being so stupid. I never use my head, if I did, I would have realized that 6:00 was too late to go see a movie when it gets dark at 8:00. I should have asked Johnny to come with me, or anyone from the gang, but I just didn't like company all that much whenever I go see a movie. It disturbed me, kinda like someone reading your book over your shoulder.

Thoughts of Johnny caused me to pick up my pace. I guess I had been slowing down, lost in my thoughts, and hadn't noticed that I was traveling at a snail's pace. A car could be heard in the short distance, it made me shudder. I remember when we had found Johnny, barely alive in the abandoned lot my gang would sometimes play football in. He was bleeding and bruised, his breathing ragged and his face swollen so badly that I couldn't even recognize him I hate the Socs for doing that to him. I hate the Socs for everything. They got all the lucky breaks, got all the best opportunities and well-wishes simply because they were who they were. The Greasers got nothing but a bad name and an even worse expectation rate. We barely survived, while the Socs rolled around in their shiny play things, looking for a Greaser to kick around simply because they were bored and we were there.

I didn't notice when the red Corvair I had saw earlier swerved to a stop. By the time I did, it was too late. They were already getting out. Now I really hated myself for seeing that movie. I watched as the side doors quickly swung open, creaking and revealing fine dressed boys. They were Socs. An empty bottle landed on the ground with a dull clanging noise when the one next to the driver's side stepped out. They stumbled over to me and I could feel my heart banging in my head, nearly deafening me with the rushing sound of blood. By the time I realized that running would be the appropriate thing to do, I was being backed against the side of an abandoned house.

A boy- who I assumed to be the leader- wearing a blue madras shirt, advanced toward me. "Hello, Greaser." His speech was slurred and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

They were Socs, and they were drunk.

I was breathing heavily by this time, thought having escaped me, driven out by fear. He leaned his head into my hair, sniffing and making small humming sounds. The smell of alcohol and English Leather shaving lotion was making me sick, and I wondered if I would suffocate. " You probably shouldn't have turned me down when I asked you out the other day."

My eyes widened. The boy in the blue madras, the one violating my personal space, I knew I had recognized him from somewhere. He had came up behind me one day last week while I was standing by my locker. He said he had never laid into a Greaser girl before and would be 'honored' to test me out. I had spit in his face and told him where to go and how fast he could go to get there. I didn't even know his name. Boy, do I regret doing that now.

He had his hand on my waist, lifting my shirt. I could hear the other boys chuckling and whistling their approval. I shut my eyes as tight as I could, willing it all to disappear, wanting to make them go away. " How about we give this another shot, huh? Whata ya say?"

I finally came up with a response. " No."

"No? Well, see babe, I don't really appreciate you hurtin' my feelings the way ya did. Not at all." His words were difficult to make out. He probably didn't realize this in such a drunken state. "And I 'specially don't like bein' turned down by a dirty, Greaser slut."

When his hand made its way to the edge of my bra, I kneed him in the groin. He backed off immediately, whimpering and holding his damaged goods. I was free, but not for long. Someone had their fist in my hair. I screamed, being tugged harshly by the ends of my hair into the rough arms of one of the bigger of the four boys. The one that I had me backed against the wall-trapped-put his hands on my shoulders, keeping me steady as he pushed me to the ground. Everything was moving too fast. I couldn't keep up with what was happening, much less fight.

He is on top of me at this point and I am frantically flailing my arms and legs as much as I can. I was screaming, "Soda! Darry!" Gravel was digging into the sensitive flesh of my partly exposed back, but I didn't bother to notice just then.

A fist collided with left cheek, and I was honestly shocked. I knew they were angry- at the world, at themselves, at everything in general- and that they wanted to scare me, but I didn't know what to think of them hitting me, a girl. " Hold her down and shut her up!" He yelled from on top of me, straddling my waist. My arms were held down by my wrists and a handkerchief was being shoved into my mouth. I couldn't move, I could hardly breath. I couldn't do anything. So, I lay there, tears streaming down my face, wincing at my stinging cheek and the harsh gravel sticking into my now, probably bleeding, skin.

It suddenly occurred to me that if they could go this far to hurt me, then they could rape me, or worse, kill me.

I panicked, going into survival mode. I tried to buck him off of me. It was a stupid move on my part, but I guess when you are about to get raped, the smartest thing isn't exactly on your list of top things to be concerned about. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a blade, lowering it just below my chin on the right. The metal was cold and pierced my skin like I imagined a knife sliding across butter. I shivered, fighting off the thought of blood and nausea. His mouth was near my ear. I could feel his lips moving against my skin as he talked, and I gagged.

" If you keep being difficult, I'll cut ya!"

I kept my eyes shut and my mind focused on the feel of his blade against my neck rather than the feel of his hand on my thigh. I couldn't believe how much I would rather feel my neck being sliced open then the weight of him on top of me. His erection was pressing into me, but so was his blade, so I resisted the overwhelming urge to buck him off again.

" You sure are a pretty little thing, Grease."

Ignore him, I thought. I tried to, I really did, but when I felt his fingers slide under the elastic of my panties, my eyes shot open. _"He's gonna rape me right here"._ I wasn't prepared for the sharp pain between my thighs, the intruding feel of his fingers.

I was screaming! I was shouting! _Why isn't anyone coming for me_? I wondered.

My vision was blacking out, little bubbles of color appearing here and there in front of me. I was losing consciousness. Good. I don't think I can take anymore of this. Too busy with the stabbing pain and blacking out, I didn't realize that there wasn't anyone straddling me or holding me down anymore until the sound of screeching tires and yelling reached my confused ears.

Rough hands reached underneath my knees and back, lifting me to rest against a strong chest. I gasped and started thrashing about, kicking and screaming. "No! Darry! Soda!"

He tried to shush me but I just kept yelling, so desperate I was sick. "It's okay, Girlie. I got ya, now. It's okay."

I opened my eyes and looked up to see the face of my oldest brother. Then the world disappeared as I tightened my eyes, screwing them shut against the world around me. I took in the masculine scent of Darry, tears somehow escaping from the slits of my eyelids.

Normally, I wouldn't even dare to consider crying in front of Darry, you just didn't do that kind of stuff around him. Today, though, I did. And I couldn't bring myself to care.

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_Well, there it is! Tell me what ya think. Should I continue? _


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, I realize there was a lot of grammar/spelling mistakes you had to stumble across- sorry 'bout that. And a special thanks to __**charliewalflower**__ and __**Pediophopia**__ for reviewing! This chapter is dedicated to you two._

A/N: Okie dokie… In this chapter, time skips ahead about a week or so. Girlie has had time to reflect and face some things, so that is mainly what is happening. I need a filler, and also, I need this chapter as a ground layer to give you a sense of what exactly is going on inside of this girl. The next chapter would be a little irrational and uncharacteristic if I didn't write this. I'm sorry if it is boring, but it must be done.

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**Chapter 2~**

The bruise on my face stung horribly, or it should. I got used to the feel of the sharp tug under my eye whenever I would talk or shake my head, any movement that would upset the tender flesh. The pain is barely noticeable to me. The color had faded from gruesome black to a sickening yellow-green combination. I looked like someone the size of Darry had took off and nailed me a few good times. Still, no one had noticed. In fact, no one paid any attention to me at all.

I had spent most of this week at home because Darry and Soda was afraid someone might think I was being abused or was a troublesome teenager. At first, I couldn't see the problem. I mean, it was a bruise not a gash or anything serious like that; nothing that would cause the state to take me away. We were Greasers, we got into scrapes all the time that banged us up pretty bad. Even the girls caught some knuckle to knuckle action. Of course, my confusion was before I had looked in the mirror. My reflection wasn't something I thought I could stomach for awhile. As it goes, I didn't really have a choice. My appearance snuck up on me like irony, and I really wasn't expecting it.

It was bad. The bruise I once considered simple was black, not purple, black. A cut was protruding from a small hill of swollen skin, stuck in the middle of all the black, and the rise of it made my eye look almost shrunken. There was some red and blue, too, but I don't mention them cause they were so unnoticeable in comparison to the dominate darker color that there was really no reason in pointing them out.

He hit me twice. I guess I had forgotten.

Another cut lay morose and irritated under my chin. A pink line, thick and oozing, stretched from my right ear to the middle of my neck. The blade he used went a little deeper then I remembered. The girl that looked at me from the sleek surface of the mirror didn't look like someone my peers would recognize. The girl in the mirror was a victim of something.

I was right when thinking that I couldn't handle the sight of my reflection, even if it was originally for a different reason other than appearance. All I can recall after that-the first initial shock of what had been done to me- was throwing up then waking up. I guess I passed-out.

That was five days ago. Sunday.

It was almost eight days ago that I was nearly raped. Thursday.

This morning I walked out of the house with worry and stress weighing on my mind. Worry because I didn't want people to suspect what Darry didn't want people to suspect: that I was being beaten or acting like a hood, cause people to talk and get the social workers curious. Stress because I had missed five days of classes. Darry said that I didn't have to go to school today if I didn't feel like it. After all, it was Friday and he would've understood. But I just couldn't take it anymore. The sympathetic stares, the attempts at trying to get me to "open up", the single act of sitting in my room alone with nothing but memories of groping hands to keep me company…I had all that I could stand and I couldn't stand no more. They were trying to relate to me, but they couldn't and I wished they would stop trying. They were trying to force something out of me that I just wasn't ready to give. All of their talking and glances just made it worse, made me feel even more violated than what I dared to admit at the time.

I had a lapse after I saw my reflection, and I truly believe that I had gone temporarily crazy. I would just sit for hours on the bed Soda and I shared with my legs bent and my arms folded around them, rocking back and forth. It became a natural position for me. As natural as breathing. Both acts kept my body alive. Breathing explains itself. The other…well…the only way I can describe it is this: a desperate attempt to physically keep myself together. My insides were falling out, I knew they were. The fact that I couldn't see them made no difference! They were falling out and I couldn't let anyone else see them. I wouldn't let anyone near me for days. God forbid if they tried to touch me. Sodapop had to sleep on the couch. I was trapped within my own world for what could've been months it felt like. Until one night I fell asleep, dreaming of something I have no recollection of. The sound of screaming woke me, my own, and I found that I was in the arms of my favorite person in the entire world. I panicked at first, trashing about with violent vigor to get away from those arms. But Soda just held me tighter, whispering that he would never let me go and that I could fight all I wanted, he would still stay. I gave up after a few more minutes and clung to him like a vice. That night, three days ago, I cried my heart out. Now I'm drained, emotionally incapable of the weakest of feelings. I wonder if this is how Dallas lives?

I told you I went crazy. But it wasn't only because I was nearly raped. It was the fact that now I would have something else to torment me. Fear. It wasn't fair! Wasn't the death of my parents, the constant worry that we won't have the money to pay the bills or even eat, and having the complete strangers of social services breathing down our necks enough?

It looks like all the worrying from this morning was for nothing. Like I said, people didn't notice me today. Not my absence from school. Not the still healing cut under my chin or the bruise on my face- the bruise that is now throbbing from aggravation. All day long I managed to miraculously avoid unwanted attention, succeeding nearly flawlessly. It's amazing that one argument could attract the eyes of so many people; amazing that this stupid spat would cause others to wonder when I was so sure it would be something else entirely, like my face being a mess.

"But why don't you wanna see me anymore?"

I almost felt sorry for Boe Brannon. The whine in his voice was making it easier to get over it, though. Boe was a Senior. He had jet-black hair and pale-blue eyes, standing at a decent 6'1. Being tuff made him popular among the Greaser boys, and being gorgeous made him popular among all the girls. For four months he had been sending me notes, batting his eyes, and using every charming catch phrase he could conjure to get me to go out with him. I had spent those same months trying to figure out what I'm suppose to do with my new curves and the male attention I was getting because of them. It all just seemed to spring upon me over night, and I was a little overwhelmed, as you can imagined. To say that I was confused wouldn't be pushing it, either.

I'll admit that going to Angela Shepard wasn't the best source I could've went to for advice, but she was the only girl friend I had. The fact that she had experience with such things made it a good idea at the time.

Angela was a beautiful dark-haired girl, with springy curls that made everyone jealous. She was a true Greaser broad, though, and had a reputation. Not that she minded. Greaser girls are proud of their reputations in bed the same way our guys are proud of being tuff or getting locked in the cooler. It was watching her and girls like her that taught me what flirting and sex really were.

The other girls took it upon themselves to tell me all that they knew- all the things that were out of the question to go to my brothers about- and tried to convince me to break out of my shell. But I just couldn't really help it. I'm incredibly shy. Angela noticed Boe's efforts and uselessly urged me to go out with him. I had told her that she knew why I didn't want to risk it with him- he was experienced and had quite a reputation himself. I had only been kissed once before. It was with Johnny, my best friend. I had asked him to do it because I was sick of being teased by Two-Bit; I just wanted to get it over with. I feel bad about it now. He was so nervous and wouldn't speak to me for a week after it happened.

That is when Angela suggested I practiced first…with Curly. Well, you know what happened after that. I was waning on my decision to give in to Boe's advances, but wasn't entirely convinced. Boe could have any girl he wanted, and probably had at some point. What did he want with me? Angela told me it was because I was a virgin and easily taught, and the fact that I carried the blessed Curtis genes helped. I had blushed at that. I never thought of myself as beautiful, especially compared to my brothers.

Angela confronted me once about me being a virgin. I didn't deny it because I didn't know that I should have. Being a virgin was never a big deal to me, I mean, I didn't mind that I was one cause I never understood why losing your virginity was so important. Quite honestly, I don't think I want to know. What I have learned, I've had to learn fast. All Greasers have is our reputations, though, without one it seems like you have nothing.

Finally, I gave in to them. I needed to learn about this kind of stuff, and Boe Brannon would be a great teacher. And he _was_. We've been going out on dates for about five months, most of which ended up as a make-out session in the bed of his truck, but we weren't anything official. I couldn't risk the gang finding out. We hadn't had sex and I knew he was getting sick of me.

I was snapped out of wherever my thoughts dragged me to. That was another one of my flaws- I was always spacing out. "Daydreaming" is what Darry called it, especially when he was angry at me for forgetting something or not paying as much attention as he believed I should have been.

"Girlie, come on babe." Boe smiled that crooked grin I thought I was starting to love. It only made me sick now. He tried to put his hands on my waist but I took a small step back, exterminating his hands-on tactic. I felt my chest tighten. I didn't want him touching me.

"Don't touch me."

"Why not? Ya' don't seem to mind when you have your top off in the back of my truck."

I heard the gasps and snickers coming from the small crowd of spectators that had gathered to see what would happen. They were all sheep. They lived to follow each other, so why should I care what they thought? I didn't, but the close proximity in which they were standing to Boe and me was making me anxious. I could feel their body heat and smell whatever they had chosen that morning to spray or rub all over themselves. I felt my chest constrict just a little tighter; their perfume and cologne was like breathing in fumes.

Boe had given me his black, leather jacket during our second date. He said he like the thought of it smelling like me. I fumbled clumsily with my locker combination. When I finally succeeded, I quickly opened the red metal door, grabbed the disgusting jacket, wound it up in a black ball, then threw it in his face. " I hope you enjoy having it back." I slammed my locker, adding a dramatic flair to the small speech I was about to deliver. " Don't call me. If you see me in the hallway or in the street, don't talk to me. Don't ever think that you can just touch me _ever _again! I don't want your jacket and I don't want you. Get that through your thick head!"

His eyes were blazing and resentful, but the angry fire there would soon burn out with his next conquest. I looked straight into the light blue of those eyes, wanting to reach their depths, only to find that there wasn't any. He was as shallow as a puddle. All that he was was laid nonchalantly on the surface. I knew what he wanted from me. For a time I was willing to give it to him, even wanting to. Not anymore. I saw him shake with a rage I didn't believe he felt before punching a locker. I turned to walk away, ignoring the lingering stares as I made my quiet exit.

_'No, definitely not him', _I thought.

I slid out the rust covered door that lead to the school's parking lot. Sun rays filtered through heavy, purple clouds, bending light to dance across my face. Even though it was below 45 degrees, I basked in the warmth that small bit of sun provided me. All across the worn-out blacktop of the parking lot, students filtered to and fro, getting in and out of cars and buses, yelling between the small distances that separated them from another, and smoking as they leaned against whatever sturdy object they could find.

Angela was sitting next to Curly in their older brother's car. She tossed her perfect hair over her shoulder as she winked at her newest boyfriend. I finally caught her gaze. Angela smiled brightly and waved. I shook my head in amusement, waving back. Curly saw me from where I was loitering on the top step under the door I recently exited. He didn't look happy to see me, not that I blamed him. We did use him mercilessly and the only thing he got out of it was a 20 minute make-out and a fist full of Darrell Curtis. I averted my gaze then to his older brother.

Tim Shepard was a hood. Not the type of hood that most Greasers claimed to be, but an actual hood. He was rivaled with Dallas Winston himself, so you could say he was dangerous. He was staring at me unabashedly, his dark eyes full of an emotion that made me shiver in a most unpleasant way. Tim had been trying to get with me since I started hanging out with Angela. He didn't like me, I knew that, he just wanted to screw me. He finally released me from his gaze, starting his car and backing out of the lot.

I breathed a quick sigh of relief. Having another hood trying to get up my skirt was something I really didn't want to deal with. It made me wish I wasn't a virgin anymore; if I gave Tim what he wanted, maybe the others what stop treating me like I was adventure to explore. I would have absolutely nothing for them to try to take if I did. _'If I had gave Boe what he wanted months ago, maybe that Soc wouldn't have done what he did either.' _I knew it was a stupid thought, but I didn't dismiss it. You can't blame me for thinking it. There is _some_ truth behind that irrational reasoning. Just a little. Maybe.

The students were starting to clear out. I let my eyes wander over each face, curious about what they thought when they were alone in their rooms. What were their worries or fears? Did any of them have the same ones I did or are we all totally alone to deal with those things? Two-Bit's car sat alone on the farthest corner of the pavement. I wasn't allowed to walk home by myself anymore, even during the day. Not that I wanted to.

By the time Two-Bit and Steve waltz out the doors, my butt was numb. "What took you?" I asked standing.

Two-Bit resisted the urge to throw his arm over my shoulders, knowing I didn't like being touched anymore. I already blew up on him once this week. "Sorry, Darlin'. Me and ole Steve here got detention."

"Again?"

"Of course! I gotta beat last years record don't I?"

"Can't deny you that honor." I said with a small smile.

He threw his head back and laughed. Gosh, I missed him. After being in self-isolation for a week, someone like Two-Bit Mathews is exactly what I needed. We climbed in his beat up car, careful not to get in too quickly, afraid it might rock to the left and detach another wire. Not that it would matter with Steve here to fix it but I really don't want to stay here staring at this parking lot for another minute. Two-bit finally got the thing started. We where headed in a different direction from my house, but I didn't have to ask. I know where we're going, The DX, and I can't wait to see Sodapop. I was getting lost in my daydreams again, thinking about _'A Tell Tale Heart'_, not noticing anything that was going on around me until Steve said something that caught my attention.

"What was that?" I asked.

"None of your business."

Steve was Soda'a best buddy, has been since I was born, and that is the only reason I tolerate him. He hates me. I never understood why, but it's okay cause I hate him too. I want to hurt him for some of the things he has said to me, rip all that swirly, greased-up hair from his head. He blamed me for what happened Thursday, said that if I wasn't such a slut then it would have never happened in the first place. Darry and Dally had to rip me off of him. I had broken his nose and finger, gave him a black eye. It wasn't my fault. All I saw was red. I felt better when I glanced over to see Johnny on top of him, pounding away at his excuse for a face. That's my Johnny. My protector and best friend I'll ever have. It was one of the most bizarre things I've ever seen Johnny do, ever. He could barely look at someone hitting someone else-even if it wasn't him that was on the receiving eng of the hit-without wincing, and it mostly had to do with his parents beating on him all the time. Being beat half-conscious by a group of drunk Soc's didn't help, either. But…he did it for me. Just me. Steve was drunk when he said it and apologized later. I wont forget it, no matter how sincere he looked when he said, "I'm sorry."

I glared a hole in the back of Randle's head, waiting for it to explode simply by the will of my mind. My concentration was broken, however, when Two-Bit answered my question.

"There's a party at Buck's tonight. Not one of the usual, but a big bash for winning that Rodeo Cup last week. There's gonna be lots of bubb and blondes, so I'm definitely going. You should come too, Girlie. You need a little fun."

I was stunned by Two-Bit's concern but I didn't show it. Instead I just shrugged, ignoring Steve's protests.

_'Getting drunk sounds too good right now to care.' _

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_Well, there is chapter two! It was LOADS difficult so I would MORE than LOVE your responses :D Please o' please! _

_Oh, and once again, sorry for any and all mistakes!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thanks to PonyboySlashLover, Pediophobia, and charliewalflower**__ for the wonderful reviews! You guys are awesome and I hope you guys like this chapter ;p _

A/N: this chapter is a little more, uh, exciting than the last one. It was intimidating (almost) to write, so please, tell me what you think about it. Sorry about all the spelling mistakes in the last chapter. I swear I reread my work but I always overlook stuff. ***le sigh* **I need a beta.

A/N2: Here is where the inner turmoil of the last chapter makes its way to the surface. If you haven't read chapter 2, I highly recommend you do.

A/N3: And I don't know if any of ya'll have watched the _Outsiders TV series_, but the way Tim and Darry look in it is the way I describe them in my fic. It's actually a good thing, too, cause both of the guys who play Dar and Tim look exactly the way S.E Hinton describes them in her book. If you haven't ever watched it, you should check it out! I'm pretty sure you can find some of them on YouTube. ;p

Oh! And while I'm on the topic of descriptions, to make sure your clear: Dally is like the Dally in the book, but LOOKS like the Dally from the movie. (Yay! Matt Dillon) And I picture Ponygirl to look like Amy from _Secret Life of the American Teenager_, but with redder/curlier hair. Don't ask why, I just do.

Anyways...Here's chapter 3. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3~**

"You're not going?"

"I can't. Steve and I got a car in a few days ago that we promised to have fixed by tomorrow morning. We kept puttin' it off and I guess we just forgot about it."

I was leaning in towards the bathroom mirror, examining the results of my attempt to look decent for Buck's tonight. The sink counter was cluttered with makeup, hair products, and other beautifying paraphernalia. Darry would flip if he walked in here right now. My fingers stopped fighting a particularly difficult curl, letting the ringlet fall to hang loosely around my face. I looked back down at the mess I made and sighed. There really was no use in trying. I would never be as pretty as Angela or some of the other girls I see walking around.

"You look beautiful tonight, Ponygirl."

"Yea, right."

I watched as Soda's reflection laid his hands on my shoulders. He brought a comforting weight with the familiar gesture and I was thankful. It was nice to be touched, to be touched and not have your first reaction be to run scared. He really was my favorite person. Everything he does makes me realize how much I've always needed him. His understanding nature was irreplaceable. I watched as his face changed, morphing to accommodate that star-exploding grin of his. I couldn't help it, I had to smile back.

"Look at yourself." He said gently. "You're growing up."

The mirror was no longer a terror to me, especially at this moment. I set my gaze upon the sleek surface and took in what it showed me. For the first time in my life I didn't see a little girl, but a young woman. My eyes were lined with black eyeliner, and I was wearing a small hint of brown shadow and mascara, giving the green in my eyes a chance to be bold and stand out. I applied little blush and only a dab of lipstick. The makeup worked well with my outfit. I had chosen one of my nicer skirts; it was black and rested a little above my knee. The shirt I was wearing belonged to Sandy, Soda's girl. It was red and formed to my curves nicely, but not too much. It's not like I've never wore makeup or dressed-up before, it's just somehow, though I don't know how, this was different. Sodapop was right. I did look good tonight. I could almost ignore the still healing bruise and cut that ruined the image. Almost. Another smile stretched across my face.

"I didn't know I could look like this."

He nodded. "I don't understand why. You're probably the best lookin' girl in Tulsa."

"Sure, Soda". I rolled my eyes and shoved a tube of mascara in his hand. "Help me clean this stuff up before Darry comes in here and pitches a fit." A sudden realization donned on me. "Soda, what are we gonna tell Darry? There is no way he'll let me out of the house if he knew Two-Bit was plannin' on taking me to Buck's."

"Don't worry, I'll tell him ya'll are gonna head over to the Nightly Double."

I shook my head. "I don't want you to have to lie to him."

He merely shrugged, that happy-go-lucky attitude dominating over all his other concerns. "Forget about it, baby. I want you to have a little fun tonight. Dar doesn't have to know everything that goes on around here, now does he?"

Soda made a point. Besides, it's not like Darry or Soda hasn't had their own share of fun and been a little less than honest about it. "If you say so."

"I do say so."

With that Soda left, taking away the cheerful atmosphere that seems to follow him around. I finished gathering up whatever was left on the sink and looked into the mirror once more. The same girl stood there, but the smile was gone. I wish that I could get over it, whatever _it_ is. I don't even know what's got me so down all the time. I walked to the room that Soda and I shared to put away the rest of my makeup, thinking about what I could do to move on with my life. I have been stuck in the same emotionless pit for over a week now. The problem is, I'm keeping my brothers down with me. I'm tense all the time and jumpy; I haven't laughed since that Thursday. They can tell I'm not okay and it has got them upset and just about as defensive as I am. I don't want them to feel like I won't be okay. Thinking like that will only stress them out and that is the last thing they need, especially Darry.

The bed creaked as I stood to leave the small bedroom. My high-heeled feet barely made a sound as I walked towards the kitchen, knowing the others will be there. I was determined. _Tonight something was gonna change. Either that, or something is gonna have to break._

To my surprise, Two-Bit was the only person in the kitchen. He was leaning lazily against the stove, a plate full of the chocolate cake I made last night in one hand, a fork in the other. A opened bottle of beer was sitting on the table beside him- he would pick it up between bites and take a large gulp or two. I didn't understand his love for beer, I thought it was nasty stuff that tasted worse than it looked- it looked like horse pee, if you ask me. He raised one chocolate covered hand to his chest before belching loudly.

I held back a grunt. "Weren't you raised with any manners? I know your momma raised you better than that. Say excuse me."

"Yea, right! Like that's gonna happen." The large grin he had on his face dropped and his eyes grew wide when he looked at me. His shock lasted a mere moment. With his dopey grin in place, he abandoned his cake and strutted towards me. Two-Bit let his eyes rack me up and down and I blushed with embarrassment, knowing he was about to say something about me that would make me wanna crawl in a hole and swear off men forever. " Well now...What do we have here? Looks like our little Ponygirl is becoming a woman."

His grin widened and he wagged his eyebrows, letting me know he was kidding. I shook my head and said in false astonishment, "Geez. You would think that this is the first time you realized I was actually a girl."

"Nah. This is just the first time I realized how lovely you are." He bowed in an over-dramatic fashion and kissed the back of my hand. " Would you allow me to escort you to Buck's, sweet lady?"

I couldn't resist, I giggled loudly, but not loud enough to turn into a laugh. I wondered if I would ever really laugh again? How can I when I'm not even sure what it is that's depressing me in the first place? I'm pathetic. " Wow, Two-Bit. How many episodes of Mickey did you have to watch to pick up that sentence?"

"Hey, now! Don't go makin' fun of me when all I was tryin' to do was tell you how pretty you look tonight."

"So sorry, Mr. Mathews." I replied with a small chuckle. I remembered what Soda said he was going to tell Darry- the lie- and I wondered if he mentioned it to Two-Bit. "Did Soda tell you that we have to lie to Dar tonight?"

"Yea, he told me. I already talked to the Big Guy about it. He knows no different."

I nodded. "Cool deal."

"Johnny is taggin along with us."

"Johnny? But he hates Buck's" I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice. I wasn't sure I wanted Johnny at Buck's. It's not that I don't want him there, of course I do, he's my best friend. But lately, I've been starting to notice some things about Johnny that best friends aren't supposed to notice, and care for him in ways that went a little beyond the call of "best friend". It made me confused. More than that, though, is this feeling I have deep in my gut that something is going to happen tonight that will change my life forever, and quite frankly, I didn't know where everyone in my life is going to fit in this change. Especially me.

"Yea, I know," Two- Bit started. " He said his parents are startin' a little early tonight and he doesn't wanna sick around when the fireworks go off. Dally'll be there, too, and you know the kid misses him." He put his hand on my back. As much as I tried, I couldn't squash the urge to flinch. He immediately drew back his hand. I was embarrassed again, but I was more angry than anything else. Two-Bit is one of my best friends, what is my problem?

"Sorry, Girlie. Come on." He ushered me towards the living room. "I wanna say bye to Soda and Darry. There's somethin' I wanna tell 'em."

He had a mischievous glint in his eye. I have a feeling I would regret letting him say "goodbye" instead of simply leaving. Too late now, I thought. Darry was sitting in the old armchair beside the sofa, attempting to wade through the newspaper while Soda ran all around the house looking for his other shoe.

"It's in the laundry basket", Darry yelled without glancing up.

Soda came back with both of his shoes on. He put his arm around my shoulders. For some reason, my brothers are the only ones who could touch me without me shaking them off or sinking away. "Hey, Dar", he said, "haven't ya looked at your baby sister yet?"

My eyes got wide. _He's gonna find out we aren't really going to see a movie. He's gonna know we are lying. _I didn't have time to think strait. Darry looked up over the edge of the newspaper, sitting it down completely when he took in my appearance.

"You look-"

"I aint changing."

He rolled his blue eyes and shook his head. Standing up, he put his big hands on my shoulders, waiting for me to shake them off or step back from his grasp. When I didn't he visibly relaxed.

"I wasn't gonna say that." He started, then paused and started again. "I was gonna say you looked beautiful. So much like mom."

I gaped at that. Me...look like mom? Impossible. My mother was beautiful and lovely and bright- she was a golden beacon to anyone who knew her. There is no comparison between us. Darry continued. " I can't believe you're already fifteen." His voice sounded far off, like he was trying to catch his thoughts with his words. "I wish she could see you."

Tears stung my eyes. I didn't want to cry, ruining my makeup would be frustrating, but the tall man before me began to blur regardless of what I found inconvenient. I whispered a small, "Me too", and hugged him tight. His strong arms wrapped around me like a blanket and I knew then that I was secure here in his arms, in his care, in this house. It was the first time I've felt this way since our folks passed, and I have a sickening feeling it'll be one of the last. I released him, stepping back at the sound of the screen door opening.

Johnny walked in with his head held low and his hands stuffed in the faded material of his jacket. His eyes brightened when he saw me, but so did his cheeks. He stumbled out a broken phrase that sounded something like 'you look real nice' before ducking his head again.

Two-Bit thought this was the perfect opportunity to laugh and make a comment. "Superman, your sister's hot!"

My hands went to my face, protecting me from whoever may see the blush that rose to color my cheeks. This is the third time tonight I've become embarrassed by a comment on the way I looked, and I was seriously rethinking my outfit decision. Sodapop was laughing hysterically beside me, but somehow I could still hear the door open and shut. I didn't need to lift my head to know that Johnny was still shrinking into himself by the sofa or to know that Darry was chasing Two-Bit outside, ready to beat him upside the head.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Johnny Cash fathomed through the room from an old record player behind the bar. His voice flirted with my ears, such a melodic sound. I loved Johnny Cash. You can recognize his voice anywhere and his lyrics are real tuff.

I sat alone on a bar-stool swaying, looking over the other people that crowded Buck's. Two-Bit had left me here a couple of hours ago to chase after some blonde. Johnny was standing in a far off corner talking with Dallas. At first, it was the three of us after Two-Bit left. I danced with both of them. Dally only made small comments about my appearance, but it was enough to keep me as bright as a tomato for a good thirty minutes. You would think I would be used to Dally by now, but then again, Dallas Winston isn't exactly someone you can get used to. I was tense in his arms when we first started, but I was almost always that way with Dally. Honestly, he did treat me a little different then the rest of the gang, watched out for me almost like he watched out for Johnny, but he was still dangerous: dangerous, wild, and, admittedly pretty good -looking. All that added to the fact that he was notorious for exploding on a seconds notice had me walking around glass whenever I was near him. I loosened up after a bit, though, and then the three of us talked a bit, but when they started going on about drag-races I backed away and out of the conversation. It didn't interest me. A few guys hit on me but I brushed them off. I didn't know them and they were making me uncomfortable. Actually, I was still uncomfortable, that's why I was drinking.

I held the tequila bottle in my hand and tilted it to the side, watching the intoxicating liquid ripple behind the glass. The man that had been sitting beside me abandoned the over half-empty bottle to go upstairs with a redhead he managed to sweet talk. I'd watched them go with interest. He couldn't have been over nineteen, at least. The girl he was with looked even younger, maybe my age. I wondered how people could just randomly have sex, just give their bodies over to someone else for a night. I had grabbed the bottle before I could talk myself out of it. The first sip burned, stung all the way down to my stomach. It didn't burn anymore, though, and I wasn't as uncomfortable. It was just great, and my mind was starting to understand how people could "just have sex" as my eyes took in some of the hard, lean bodies of some of the boys here. Some I could remember and others I couldn't.

My legs felt lighter than they ever have, I noticed as I stood from the stool. My head was surprisingly clear and for once in my life I didn't feel the need to dream, just do. I had only been drunk a few other times and every time I felt like someone different. I didn't feel like a different person tonight, I still felt like me...just freer. Bolder. I walked passed the crowd of dancers and passed Johnny and Dallas. Ya know, it's funny...Johnny is always attached to me, follows me like a shadow. That all changes, though, whenever Dally is around. I didn't care at the moment. I was looking for something, or someone. I just couldn't remember what it was. This confused me. Sure, I was a little tipsy, maybe drunk, but I wasn't nearly soused enough to cause me to forget things. Then again, maybe I was. I never have been good at determining if I was drunk or not. All I knew is that I wasn't totally gone, at least not yet. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered the determination I had set for myself before we left to come here. I was going to get over my issues tonight, I guess I had forgotten.

The red from the lights gave everyone the same pink skin tone. It was interesting, to say the least. I saw Tim Shepard standing by the poker table, waiting to play his turn. His dark curls- so much like Angela's- were greased back from his face. Tim was tall and hard, his body lean, fierce, and ready for a fight. I wasn't stupid. I knew that Tim was good-looking, incredibly good looking. But he was a true hood, through and through, and wouldn't care one way or another if he broke your heart, or your hand. Just like Dally. I don't know if it was the alcohol or my sudden resolve to ease myself back into normalcy, but when Tim caught me looking at him I held his gaze.

This was it, I realized. This is what I knew I needed earlier today- today as I was sitting on the steps outside of school and had caught Tim's attention. The same way I had his attention now. I knew what I could do now to get over Thursday, though that day seemed so distant that it barely mattered. He looked me up and down; that emotion in his eye that used to be unpleasant, wasn't so unpleasant anymore. In fact, that lust I saw gleaming in his dark-blue, nearly black, stare was what I was counting on. My hand brought the bottle back to my lips and I savored the warmth of the tequila as it slid over my tongue. It was giving me a warm feeling, and I allowed it to cover me, to sheath me in a cocoon of unconcern. After all, this is what everyone wanted from me right, to have fun?

I was safe in my tequila induced cocoon; I could lay down my arms and reinforce my ammunition. That's what I did. Tim reached over the pool-table, steadying his hand, calculating his shot. Finally, he played his turn then tilted his handsome face back towards me. I took another long sip, gathering up my courage. Slowly but steadily the corner of my lip lifted into a smile. I saw a flash of something blaze across his eyes. I don't know what it was, but it thrilled me. He stood up a little straighter, grinning back. Something shook me just then and I knew for an absolute certain that this was what I wanted. _Angela and the other girls had convinced me that this was what I wanted, what I should do, now I believed them._ I was ready for this, I thought, and I was about to make my way over to him when someone grabbed my wrist. My body froze. I shook whoever it was off of me. I said I was ready to go there, but I had decided who I wanted to touch me. This guy, the one I turned to face, was not him.

He wasn't tall, but he wasn't short, either. A thin patch of dark- blond hair adorned his head. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't who I wanted. His gray eyes were glazed over and a fresh smell of beer wafted from his mouth as he spoke, making my stomach turn a little. "Wanna dance, baby?"

"No."

"Oh, come on..." He drawled out slowly, putting his hand on my waist. I pushed him so that he stumbled backwards. I didn't want him touching me.

"I said 'no'!"

"Is this idiot botherin' you, Curtis?"

Tim stood behind me. His arms were crossed over his chest and his head was tilted back, so as to look superior. I knew this tactic. Typical Greaser stance, trying to look tuff. I have seen my guys trying to pull it off, it usually worked, but not as well as Tim pulled it off. Dallas was the only one who could do better. He wore his cold attitude like a glove. No wonder people were afraid of him.

He stared into my eyes for a moment before looking passed me to the blond that was harassing me. "How 'bout you go away now, Frankie."

Frankie obeyed. He wasn't as dumb as he looked, then. "Hey, Tim." I said in a voice I didn't recognize. I sounded like the girls that hit on Soda or Dallas- I sounded seductive. Must be the tequila, I thought, looking down at the bottle.

Tim took it from me, gulping down a steady drink. "So, Girlie, what brings you around these parts?"

He had that look in his eye again. I took this moment in, rolled it around in my disoriented mind, and realized that this was the opportunity to take what I wanted, what I needed. I grabbed the bottle of tequila, finishing it off. My nerves and insecurities were quietened, along with my usually wondering mind, making what I was about to do so very easy. I set the empty bottle on a nearby table and looked down. His hands were circled around my waist and I didn't care. _I didn't care_. I'm getting over _it_, I thought.

"I'm here to have fun."

My breath was hitting his lips. We were so close. _Not close enough_. I pressed closer to him, tilting my head to reach him better. Tim leaned down and our lips touched. This was easier than I thought. His kisses were rough and furious and I found myself being pressed sturdily against a wall. His lean body was trapping mine and his hand was grabbing at my right thigh. I shook inwardly, thinking about the Soc that held me in a similar position. But I kept kissing him. _I will get over this! _We were in the open, on display for anyone who wanted to watch us, and I couldn't find it within me to care. I kept pressing forward, pressing, pressing until Tim drew back. He let go of my thigh and held my hands, twinning his fingers with mine.

"Ready to head upstairs?" His voice was ruff and his breathing was labored.

I nodded my head and pushed against him as I pushed off the wall. "Let's go."

"Now, ya see, I just don't think that's such a good idea."

That voice was entirely too familiar, and I had to brace myself before I could respond to him. Luckily, I didn't have to, Tim did it for me. "Buzz off, Dally. I'm busy, or I was about to be."

I gulped. No one talked to Dallas like that. This wasn't going to end well. Tim didn't seem to care that the toughest hood in all of Tulsa was glaring at him. When Dally had that look the strongest of men didn't want to mess with him, it surprised me that Tim was so stupid. Then I remembered that Tim Shepard and Dallas Winston were two of a kind. Dallas clinched his fists, his dark eyes blazing. He looked dangerous. It was moments like this when I liked to stare at Dally. I have never seen anyone look so untamed, as if he were born to be the physical persona of the word 'wild'. Another thrill tingled down my spin.

"I don't think ya heard me", said Dallas.

"I heard ya loud and clear, Dal. I just really don't give a shit about what you think."

Tim held my hand a little tighter and started to tug me in the direction of the stairs. He didn't get very far. Dallas took a hold of his arm, swinging him around to land a perfect fist across his jaw. Tim recovered quickly, lounging forward and tackling Dally beneath him. The fight was on. It didn't last long, however, as Buck pushed his way through the crowed of spectators.

"Winston! Shepard! Break it up!" Buck growled. When the two boys kept fighting, he threatened, "I mean it, Dally, or you'll be sleeping out in the street tonight!"

They got a couple more swings in before Dallas stood up, kicking Tim in the ribs one good time before he backed away fully. He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand before setting his eyes on me. I blanched and recoiled backwards.

"Follow me, Girlie." Dallas' voice was low and steady, it was a tone that scared me. I had no other choice. I looked around at the faces staring back at me- Johnny was one of them. His big, black eyes were wide, and there was a sadness there that even his parents couldn't cause. It hurt me to see him like that. I wanted him to smile that shy smile of his at me, not look like I just ran off with the love of his life. I wondered where all that hurt was coming from?

"Come on, kid!", Dallas roared.

I jumped, startled, but nodded. Forgetting the faces that followed every move I made, even Johnny's, I followed Dallas. He moved to the side once we reached the winding, black stairs that lead to the second floor, letting me go ahead of him. This is strange, I thought. I was upset that Dally had to cause such a scene, upset that he ripped my chance away right when I finally had the gall to take it. But, I was scared, as well. This is typical Dallas behavior- barging in someone else's affairs and taking what he wants- but I just couldn't figure out what it is he wanted to do to _me_. Probably beat me up side the head a few times.

"In here."

I turned to see him opening a door that looked like it had been kicked down once or twice. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him. The room was small, very small, with a twin-sized bed in the right corner and an unimpressive dresser in the left. There wasn't much room left, just enough to fit me and Dally without actually touching.

"Sit down." He nodded towards the bed. "What the hell were you thinking?" He shouted at me. I felt the anger in his voice and winced at its contact. I merely stared at him, the alcohol making me braver than what I knew I was. When I didn't answer he continued, raising his hand to run through his hair. "Did you want to get a room with Tim, huh? Cause that's exactly what would have happened if you would've kept at it, Girlie. And believe you me, Tim isn't exactly the most gentlemanly of guys...if ya know what I mean."

"Why do you think I was with him?" My answer was immediate and sarcastic and I surprised even myself.

He only stared at me, a look on his face that seems to ask if he heard me correctly. I couldn't help but think of how much he reminded me of Paul Newman. Strange, yes, but it's what I put together. Dallas "saved" me from the bad guy- I ignored the fact that I wanted Tim and Dally was basically ruining my fun. It may be the one and only time someone will ever compare Dallas Winston to a hero. An intoxicated idea hits me.

"You _wanted_ to have sex with Shepard?" He asks incredulously, raising one dark eyebrow. I shrugged, having nothing to say. "Are you stupid? Do you even know how many girls that hood has been with?"

"Who else would have done it?"

Again, I shocked myself. I even managed to make Dally look somewhat taken aback, which isn't exactly the easiest feat to begin with. Apparently, my drunken self has a lot of surprising things to say. I just hope I don't reveal anything else-I've had enough embarrassment for one lifetime. But, he seems to get what I'm doing, I can tell. His eyes took hold of that wisdom you can only achieve by being so young but living with so much. Dallas had seen it all. Still, he asks, "What's wrong with you?"

I ducked my head. I wasn't prepared to tell anyone anything, but Dallas could tell something was up and his silent persuading was making me anxious. I thought about everything that has happened and I thought about life, about how people take what they want or need. And I thought about Angela and the other Greaser girls, why they did the things they do. I didn't realize I should have sex until it was almost forced upon me, kinda like Johnny didn't realize he should carry a blade and actually use it until he was put in a position where he needed to. Johnny was nearly robbed of his life. I was nearly robbed of my virginity. Now, I know why all the Greaser girls are 'sluts'...it's their choice. Not some guy's, or society's, or even their families'. All theirs. I never knew that sex was a survival instinct. I get it, now.

Finally, I said, "I just want it to be my choice, Dal. I'm ready to make my own choice." After the words leave my mouth, I realize that this wasn't just about sex, it expanded so much farther than that. It ran to the heart of society, to the groups that we have been placed in. It sliced the boundaries that isolated the Greasers and gave us restrictions. This was about control. I longed for control, control over something. For once! My whole life has been overshadowed by the choices other people have made, and the choices people make for me. Then there are the things no one could control: the death of my parents and the Soc's.

He nods, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "Yea, after what those bastards nearly did to you, I get that. But with Shepard?" He shook his head at me, looking a bizarre combination of amused and disgusted.

Dallas is cool, I decide. He always gets it, and he gets it now. That idea I had earlier starts to take form in my mind, this time more precise and I can almost see it unfolding. The chiming of the tequila still rang comforting in my head, my reasoning and rationality calmly subdued for now.

I get off the bed, taking two short steps to stand in front of him. "Then how about you?"

"How about me what?" He asks, blowing cigarette smoke in my face. He was playing dumb and I knew it. I just give him a look, telling him to drop the act, and nudged closer to him. "You're crazy, Curtis. No."

"Why?"

"You're drunk, stupid."

Like that's ever stopped you before, I thought but didn't dare say out loud. Instead I say, "I'm desperate."

"All the more reason I'm sayin' no, Ponygirl! You don't ever make decisions when your desperate…never. That's what get's you in trouble, or caught."

By this time we are standing face to face. I could feel his warm breath brushing against my forehead and it made me even more determined. I was already this close, there is no way I'm backing down now. I really am drunk, I observed silently, cause there is no way in hell I would ever attempt anything like this, especially with Dallas Winston.

I take the lit cigarette from his mouth and bring it to my own, inhaling a long drag to settle my nerves and glad that the alcohol was giving me the courage I needed to do what I was going to do next. I knew by the way he was slurring his words and holding back on the insults that he was pretty drunk himself. I silently wondered at the thought of taking advantage of Dallas Winston. I put the cigarette in an ashtray setting on his dresser before bringing my arms up to slowly slide around his neck. " Come on, Dal."

He sighs, looking away from me but not pushing me away, either. " You don't know what you want, Ponygirl."

I lean into him. " I've been thinking about doing this for awhile now, Dally." I place my lips to his briefly, thinking about how perfect Dallas was for this. He would be cold and uncaring- Dallas- and I wouldn't have to worry about any lingering regrets. " No stings attached, Dally. Please, just do this for me." I place my lips back on his, kissing him longer than before, letting my mouth linger, and giving him a chance to feel my body rub against his. I had to stand on my tip toes. I could taste the sharp tang of blood from the corner of his lip where Tim had hit him, but I silently begged for him to respond, begged him to give me this. I felt him pull away slightly and my heart caved in a little. I couldn't deal with rejection.

He placed his hands on my hips and breathed against my parted mouth. " No strings?"

I smiled a little and nodded. Inside I was screaming with delight, my sanity having been saved. He kissed me then, leading we backwards until I felt the edge of the bed against the back of my knees. "Good," he said, "I would hate for your brothers to find out and I be the one to get my head caved in."

"They won't find out." I whisper against his neck, leaving a small kiss on the exposed flesh. I wasn't afraid anymore, I knew that this was going to happen between him and me. I might be "little Ponygirl Curtis" , the only girl in our small gang, but I was, in fact, a girl-an attractive girl at that- and Dallas Winston was rarely one to turn down sex when it's offered.

"Just don't say I ain't never done ya any favors." He brought his hand to cup my cheek, turning my face to meet his. I let the heat from his hand soothe me.

Kissing Dallas was what I expected. He was not a sweet kisser, he kissed like he fought- rough, raw passion, but with total precision. The soft, hot flesh of his mouth clashed in total contrast with his hard, cold exterior. It was an intriguing experience. I never dreamed that Dally was this unique, this...fascinating. My fingers toyed with the softness of his hair and I wondered if this was okay, to get lost in what we were doing? I was enjoying this. Would that make a difference when I left his room? I didn't care. Not now anyway. Tomorrow is another problem entirely, but for this moment I just didn't care.

His tongue slid into my mouth, wet and sticky against mine. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, and I savored the flavor. There was also another flavor there, one I knew well and have tried anytime I could. The lingering sweetness of a cherry, blunt wrap tingled my senses, and I briefly longed for a hit of what he had been hitting. I wouldn't have expected Dallas to taste like anything else. Dallas sucked on my tongue, and if my eyes weren't closed they would have rolled to the back of my head. I always loved it when Boe did that, but Boe was different than Dally. Boe didn't taste like whiskey and smoke, he tasted like hard candy and beer, but for some reason I like Dallas' taste more. Maybe it was because the flavor of his tongue described who he was nearly perfectly- you can't catch smoke and whiskey burns when you take it in. Just like Dallas.

Dallas had his left hand on the back of my head, tangled in my hair, while his right was splayed in the middle of my back. He kneaded the skin there and pressed me into him, just a little more, but I shifted back. I needed room, I wanted to touch him- touch him before I lost my nerve and ran away like a frightened little girl . His hand tightened in my hair out of protest but slackened when he felt my hands playing with the end of his shirt. I captured his bottom lip between my teeth, tugging, then letting the pink flesh roll free.

Dallas let out a low sound somewhere in the back of his throat, I felt it rumble in his chest, shaking my body. We broke free, allowing me the space to remove his shirt. Dally lifted his arms, assisting me in getting the annoying clothing from his torso completely. Dallas had my shirt off a lot quicker than I had his. He looked at me and grinned, mumbling something like an approval. I was back in his arms, our lips attached and our skin finally touching. He was warm, so very warm. My hands dug into his hard skin, feeling the muscles contract beneath them, and finding the scars that marred that same skin.

Dallas had a lot of scars. I detached myself from his warm mouth, casting my eyes to his naked upper-half. The scar I had been tracing was new, barely healed over. It went deep, whatever had caused it. I didn't wince for him. No, I knew Dallas had it rough, he was a hood, after all. His chest and stomach, arms and shoulders, were covered in many different kinds of wounds. He wore them like a decoration, a testament to the life he has survived and is still living. One scar in particular caught my attention- I came face to face with it, my nose brushing it slightly, and it rested right above his heart. I tried not to show any trace of sadness-Dallas would hate it and I didn't want to risk him pushing me away-so I didn't look up to me his eyes yet, didn't make a sound. But I kissed the spot gently, the place that seemed to cry out to me for some reason because Dallas would not. I kissed the scar again; it was the only way I could comfort him. I couldn't help it, I thought as I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest, peppering lingering kisses along the expanding skin there. Dallas was my friend, or he was in a sense. Besides Johnny, I was all that he had to feel any sympathy for him- not that he wanted it, but that's hardly the point. Something I realized downstairs wouldn't leave me alone. Dally had the whole gang, but out of all of us, it was Johnny and me that he spent his time with. We knew him better than anybody else. Dallas always treated Johnny and me like we were some sort of delayed responsibility, always looked out for us in that semi-cold way that _was who he was_. But I truly believed he cared, he wouldn't have done half the things he has done if he didn't…at least a little. Especially Johnny. He sure as rain wouldn't have bothered with anyone else the way he fusses over Johnny.

My kisses made a quick line from his chest to his neck. I stopped there a moment when I felt a familiar rush flow beneath my lips, his pulse beating hard and fast. I felt him tense when my tongue darted out to trace the vein that held my attention. I remembered Boe telling me that he loved it when I did this to him, he said it was sexy that I would want to claim him like that. My teeth dully dragged a small distance along the nape of his throat before I sucked the flesh into my mouth. I wasn't claiming him- though a primal part of me knew I was-I just wanted him to know that I wanted this, and that in this moment, right now, I wanted _him_, too. I have never thought to feel this worried, this sorry for Dally- he was always just too tough for me to think about him like that. Another thing to blame on the alcohol, I guess. He let me stay there for a few moments, licking at his neck like I loved to do, then his hands griped my forearms and he pushed me back.

I looked up into his face, questioning. This is the closest I've ever been to him. His face was flushed and his hair was messy. He looked disoriented, distracted, and that was something I have never seen on Dally before. I quietly savored that I, someone who is rightly afraid of Dallas, could have such an effect on him, that I could turn his own cold and controlled body against him. I bit my lip, wondering what he was thinking about. He breathed deeply and opened his mouth. He was about to say something, but he just shook his head and muttered a muffled 'screw it' before leaning down to kiss me again. Our lips moved together in a different way than when we first began, they were frenzied and desperate, laced with impatience. I could feel his erection, hard and throbbing against my stomach and knew it wouldn't be long now.

I was starting to get nervous, the alcohol evaporating only slightly but just enough to let a few insecurities rise through and jab at my cocoon. I ignored it, tried to resist its hold over me, and started to work on the button of his jeans, anything to keep me distracted from my doubts. As soon as his pants pooled around his ankles, his hands were under my skirt. He didn't play around with the sides of my panties, just hooked his thumbs under the edges and maneuvered them down my thighs with the ease of a man who has done this many other times- I dismissed that he _had_ actually done this many other times. I tried not to concern myself with the fact that he has actually done this many other times, and concentrated on his hovering lips and wandering hands instead. The only clothing left was my white bra and skirt. I shivered, not noticing the coolness of the room up until this point. The only part of me that wasn't trembling slightly was my face- our hot mouths still joined and the blush on my cheeks making it warm. Goosebumps prickled against my skin, my back and legs being dominated by the little bumps. Dallas must have noticed cause he pulled back, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine.

"Cold?"

I didn't want to speak, so I nodded, afraid that if I did talk I would spill the truth- that I was a little scared. And I didn't want him to change his mind, I wanted him to keep going, to help me get over this.

"Well, then," he said, and even though my eyes were still closed I knew he was smirking, "we should probably get in the bed then, huh?"

My body tensed, automatically stiffened by how real his question had made the situation. I opened my eyes, seeing the smirk I knew I would find there. He laid his heavy hands on my shoulders, running them up and down my arms. The warmth was comfortable and I forced myself to become even more comfortable. Dallas traced his lips gingerly on my cheek, taking extra care around the still morose looking bruise. He brought his index finger to stroke it and I winced noticeably.

"I'm gonna kill the guys that did this to you."

I merely nodded. His head was bent now, his breath brushing against the side of my neck. For some reason I was getting dizzy. I felt his lips on my ear and heard a whispered, "Relax". There was an amused tone to his voice. "And breathe, Ponygirl."

A little embarrassed, I released a shaky breath. My muscles unwound dramatically. He chuckled. I tried to glare at him. "Jerk."

"Yup."

But his lips were crushing against mine, and he was doing that tongue-sucking-thing I loved, so I didn't really get to respond. Dallas dug his hands into my hips then brought them to cup under my butt. "Jump." He instructed, lifting slightly, and I obliged, abandoning my panties on the floor. It was a good thing I was so light. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I felt his erection like I never have before, different without the barrier of his jeans or my panties. I heard him groan slightly at the contact, and I'm not sure, but I think I liked the sound.

The weight of our bodies hardly made a dint in the hard, over-used mattress. Dallas reached behind him, pulling at a worn quilt. His movements were quick and clumsy as he spread it over our bodies, and I was grateful for the relief it offered from the cold air that hung about the room. He set up and removed his underwear. I tried not to look, but I couldn't help it, not that it would matter-the room was so dark and the shadow from the quilt limited my vision, and the only thing I could make out of his now naked body was a thin, dark patch of hair starting somewhere below his belly button. He really didn't have much chest hair, I noticed and was happy for the fact. I'm not a big fan of hairy guys. Then I remembered that Dallas was only seventeen years old.

_Only seventeen and so many scars_…

My skirt had ridden up in a careless wad around my waist, and I figured that he was in a bigger hurry than I had originally guessed if he didn't get me completely naked. Dallas leaned back over me, my legs already spread for him. Now that he was there, I couldn't imagine Boe there, or even Tim, both of whom I was ready to give myself to without a second thought. But Dally just fit there so nicely. He looked into my face, his brow furrowed and breathing badly controlled.

"Ready?"

Was I ready? My insides were at war with each other- my flesh, instincts, and needs battling each their sides. I wasn't confused, though, even though all this was raging within me. There was so many things that I wanted to do right now: go back in time and stop myself from going to see that movie, push Dally off of me and run out the door to hide in a hole forever, gasp at the feel of him probing my entrance. But I didn't do any of those things. I stayed right where I was, underneath Dallas Winston, letting him do what needs to be done, cause honestly, I wasn't sure what to do.

So, I let him do it.

He rested his forehead against mine, his body shaky with impatience. "Ponygirl, you're killin' me here."

I asked the only question I could think of. "Will it hurt?"

"Nah." Dallas opened his eyes and tilted his head slightly, then he smiled a half smile. "Not too bad, anyways. Aint nothin' you can't handle, Curits. You're a pretty tuff broad. "

I would've grinned if I wasn't so nervous. It was one of the closest things to a compliment that I would probably ever receive from Dally. He just didn't do stuff like that often. I bit my lip, he must have seen the doubt in my eyes. I mean, I've heard from some of the girls that it hurt the first time.

"Look, I'll go slow at first, okay?"

I gave him a wobbly smile and kissed him. He kissed me back, letting his body press snugly against my smaller one. His hips began to rock against mine and I hummed at the friction between our two halves. There was a heat between my legs and wetness smearing our lower halves from between my thighs, causing the concern in the back of my mind that said we were forgetting something slip out of my thoughts like it never mattered .I've been to enough bases to know what was happening, what my body was ready to happen.

I broke our sloppy kiss, whispering into his mouth. "Do it, Dallas."

He grabbed my left thigh, swinging my leg over his hips as he kissed me. Dallas pushed himself inside of me in one swift motion. And just like that I wasn't a virgin anymore. It was a good thing his mouth was attached to mine, cause I was pretty sure my muffled yelp would've been a lot more like a sharp gasp, much louder. He was stretching me in ways Boe's fingers never could. It was uncomfortable, at first, and hurt, but not as bad as I thought it would. His hand was holding my thigh tighter as he continued to rock in and out, and his mouth was attached to my collar bone, peppering kisses and sucking noisily. I was going to have bruises, I thought.

My arms were clamped in an incomplete circle around his mid-back, holding on to him and biting my lip. I didn't want to cry out, didn't want him to think I couldn't handle this. Ignore the pain. Ignore the pain. Ignore. Ignore. Igno-

A moan.

Mine.

It didn't hurt anymore, at least, not in an uncomfortable way. He started to move faster, breathing ruggedly against my chest. I was startled when he spoke, lost in trying to determine what these new sensations felt like. I still didn't know, but they were consuming, unignorable.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he grunted.

One leg was already there, so I moved the other one to meet it. Dallas buried his head in my side of my neck, mumbling incoherent things to be absorbed by my heated skin while my head tilted backwards, my eyes searching the ceiling and rolling back every now and again while noises that ranged between groans and whimpering escaped my disobedient mouth.

_This…was…not…an unpleasant…feeling_.

I was trying to name each effect of our actions, one by one, but always had to start over again. I came to a conclusion: sex, like kissing, is great the first time because it is your first (depending on the situation, of course)and you can never replace or forget it, but gets better every time you do it. Like practice.

Well, I thought, practice makes perfect.

My muscles twitched and hummed, tightened and released in all the right places, distracting me. Dally groaned, stiffening on top of me. I felt hot spurts of him release inside me, then he collapsed. He was saying something to me, stroking my sides, but I was already too far gone, my eyes not opening for no one.

I had one thought echo dully through my semi-aware mind, then sleep took me.

_I guess Johnny was right, Dallas can do anything_.

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**Okay ppl! That was chaper 3 and it was really flipping long! PLEASE review? I did it all for you ;p**


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to _**PonyboySlashLover,**_ _**smart-cinderella, and LeftyXP**_ for the encouraging reviews! You made me smile :D And, also, thanks to those who added my fic to their favorites, y'all also make me happy!

Oh! And to those of you who are interested, my older Outsiders fic, _Here, _will be updated very soon! ;p And I will also start playing around with my Star Wars fic, _FOOL _(just in case you're interested).

**A/N: Something important!** The last chapter- the whole, Girlie and Dally tumble- was not, I repeat, was NOT the most important part of this fic. Dallas and Girlie aren't miraculously gonna fall in love just because they had sex. That night was just a stepping stone in Girlie's life. I needed it to set the bases for much more important things to come. I didn't write it to establish something between them, rather to solidify, uh, an issue for the rest of this fic ( ONE issue for this fic). THIS WILL NOT BE FLUFF, it will not be a romance, and it will not be centered around a relationship ( At least around Dally and Girlie). This fic is strictly about Girlie, her life, and where she fits into the gang. This may change after the events of the actual book occur (no I will not give anything away).

Sorry for the mistakes of the last chapter (I reread it and cringed, lol) and for the mistakes you will more than likely find in this one.

With that being said, here is Chapter 4. Read, enjoy, and review! ;p

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**Chapter 4~**

My head hurt. I longed for more sleep and tried grasping at the finer edges of unconsciousness, but it was evaporating too quickly, ghosting through my fingers.

Each heartbeat had a throbbing ache echo after it, starting at my temples and pulsing in two half-circles along the back of my head and forehead. My skull felt like it was going to explode whenever I tried to think. So I stopped thinking. The images that assaulted my mind of last night,swelling my brain to painful capacity, slowed down until they eventually stopped altogether as I settled back under the covers.

I kept my eyes closed even though I was now awake, afraid of the sunlight that I knew would pour in from the window of mine and Soda's room. It was Soda's fault we didn't have blinds. He was hyper one night, more so than usual, and decided it would be a good idea to do pull ups on the bar that held up the window curtain. I told him not to do it. It wasn't a strong bar to begin with and was barely able to hold the curtain without falling, much less support Soda's weight. He did it anyway. The bar caved in under his hands before finally failing and breaking in two, taking down Soda and the blinds with it. We never replaced them- we were too afraid to tell Darry so we could get the money to get new ones. Feeling the pain that assaulted my head, and thinking about the harsh sunlight, I couldn't help but wish we had sucked it up and just told Darry about it, or at least maybe hung up a sheet.

_I think I'm gonna yell at Sodapop_.

I felt him shift beside me and take uneven breaths- he was awake, too, then. However, I wasn't ready to get up just yet, and as much as I want to holler at my brother, I also want him to hold me. Being the only girl in my family, the little sister, gave everyone the need to baby me. Sometimes it annoys me, like when I'm trying to read or draw and they ask me a million questions, overshadowing everything that I do. But other times, like now, when I feel like the world had sat on me then filled my head full of gravel, well…being babied isn't such a bad thing, I figure. So, I snuggle closer to him, tucking my arms underneath me as I lay on my stomach. His hand was placed on my lower back, but I wanted it draped across my neck like it always was. Groaning with the effort it shouldn't have took me, I unraveled my right arm to hug his waist, hoping that he would follow my example and hug me back. This was typical for me and Soda. We have been cuddling together since we were babies and that hasn't stopped yet. It was hard to think of a day when we wouldn't lay like this anymore, falling asleep or waking up. Soda was the only person I could talk to -other than Johnnycake, of course- and these simple moments were the only times I had him to myself to do just that. Work and his girlfriends and even Steve steal the rest of his time. I really hate Steve.

Soda took the hint and held me like I wanted him to. I was more awake now, so when he pulled me closer I noticed other aches and displeasures that were overlooked, thanks to my throbbing head. Things like the sour-bitter taste that coated my tongue or the soreness that tightened in my lower abdomen. My body nearly overlapped his and my head rested heavily on his chest, but I didn't question it. Besides, I felt funny…like, I was heavier or something. I can't really explain it well, just know that I had the most difficult time trying to move any of my limbs, even my toes. A Other things were out of place, too. For starters, the fact that I was shirtless.

It wasn't until the bundled up skirt that rested around my waist started to become uncomfortable that I realized where I was.

I remember reading a book once where this girl fell asleep only to wake up in a fairytale land with no memories of how she got there. She had become frightened in those early morning hours, sitting up frantic and confused, hoping for a spark of recognition to light her eyes, waiting for a Prince to help her solve the puzzle. I'm not sure what caused that particular book to surface in my mind, cause this wasn't the case for me or the situation I tumbled myself into. The bed I was in was no mystery. Sure, I was a little disoriented at first, but that evaporated into the stale air when I realized the state of undress I was in. And with whom. This was no fairytale, and Dally certainly wasn't Prince Charming.

Dallas was definite, now. He wasn't the 'dream Soda' I thought he was or the Prince I knew he never was. Realizing this made last night's activities break through my former thought barrier. I had to face last night. The prospect of it made nausea tingle unpleasantly at the back of my throat. But it wasn't too bad, easy to push down and ignore just so long as I can lay here. Even if I was pressed against Dally, practically laying on top of him, I just needed to lay here for a bit. _Just a little longer_. I wasn't uncomfortable- ignoring the pain and rumpled clothes- if I needed to be honest with myself. And I had to, be honest that is, cause the idea of a war with my inner-self sounded far too cliche and effort taking at this point.

It's not like I've never been in Dally's arms before. I've been held by all the guys-sans Steve, of course- at one point or another. It was always friendly or teasing in nature, a sister to brother type of expression. Truthfully, it was Johnny or Soda, maybe Two-bit or Darry, that typically held me. Not Dallas, even though we have had our moments. I mean, of course we have. Johnny and I was the closest to him, spent most of our time together, so it was obvious Dally was no exception. He was apart of our gang, and no matter how cold and aloof he would like to appear and was, that made him family and he knew it.

Dallas has held me before, but never has he hugged me. I don't think he's ever hugged anyone but Johnny. I know it probably doesn't make that much sense, and would more than likely sound ridiculous to my own ears if I decided to say it out loud, but I wonder if there is a difference between the two gestures? Is hugging more intimate or is holding? I don't know. It would make sense, though, that Dally has never hugged that many people. I've seen him kiss and grope many girls he's dated, but never have I seen him hold hands with a girl. Not once. When the girl would try he would brush her off, say dejectedly "Don't do that", and that would be that.

I wondered between the alikeness of holding hands and hugging and the fact that it was Dallas I was wondering so much about, but stopped when it occurred to me that I had crossed a line last night. Wondering why Dallas doesn't hug when we very recently had sex is a little stupid.

My stomach churned unevenly and I groaned at the grossness of it.

Dally's hand stopped stroking my back- I didn't even notice he was doing it- but didn't remove it. He spoke, his voice harsh and strained with effort, like he was in pain, almost.

"You're awake." The only response I gave him was a muffled, gurgling sound. He sniffed. " Bout time, too. I know I wore ya out, but I didn't realize I could be that incredible."

I could feel his laughter as it rumbled in his chest, disrupting the sound of his heartbeat. His laughter didn't escape his mouth, but stayed captive in his chest, adding to my belief that he wasn't feeling too hot at the moment, either. The cockiness and just plain rudeness that tinged every word he spoke would've made any other girl upset after what had happened between us. Not me. I was grateful, extremely. He was as I had predicted- plain, hard, cold, uncaring…Dallas. Our relationship- whatever it was…friends, maybe- was unaffected. Glory hallelujah!

I wanted to participate in our usual banter, and say _"Sure, Dal. I'm sure it had everything to do with you being a sex god and nothing to do with the tequila."_ Unfortunately, the words were proving difficult to push out of my mouth, so instead I said this, "Never…drinking alcohol…again." I guess my mouth was still slow, unable to catch up with my fast working mind. It was embarrassing.

"Good to know. Ya can't handle it very well."

Moving my head to the other side so that my right cheek rested against his chest and not my left, I prepared myself. I opened my eyes very slowly, forcing them like I would try to force down a wall with my bare hands. I had nothing to fear from the sun, though. The window was very small and located so that it filtered the sun's rays on the opposite side of the room. What a small relief. I tilted my head to see Dally with his left arm covering half of his face. But I could see one eye, watched as he tightened his lid and furrowed his brow. His lips were firm and seemed to lack some color. I would've rolled my eyes if I knew it wouldn't hurt like the devil.

"You don't seem too much better."

He opened that one eye and narrowed it at me when he saw that I was looking at him. Then, with a huff, he closed it again. "Yea…" He drawled satisfied, and I knew that quick that I shouldn't have goaded him. " 'cause I'm the one that tries to hop in bed with hoods when they hit the bottle. Tell me, Ponygirl, have ya always had a thing for Tim, or was it a spur of the moment type of thin'? "

I had forgotten about that. "Oh, no… Tim." A sound between a sob and a whimper escaped my lips. What was I suppose to do now? Angela. Curly. What would they say? What was everybody going to say?

"Yea, Tim. What were you thinkin' exactly, huh? And don't give me that bull you gave me last night, cause there's a lot of guys in this town that woulda screwed you senseless, and you know it."

That was blunt, I thought. I looked down between us then looked back to his face, noticing that he watched me with both of his eyes, now. "Apparently", I said, just as forward, though not meaning to be.

He flung his arm back over his face, but not before sending a glare my way. I shuddered on impulse. He really does scare me. What was I thinking'? "Shut the hell up, Curtis. Are you gonna answer my question or what?"

I knew he would keep pestering me if I didn't tell him. Not that it was that big of a deal. "I've been stayin' over at Angela's. Uhm… you know that part, I guess." He gave a brief 'yah', and I continued. "Well, Tim would come on to me. He's been wantin' to get with me for awhile. And, ya know, he aint the worst lookin' guy around!" I was starting to get a little worked-up. I felt like I had to justify something, and I didn't like that, it made me feel defensive. I calmed myself down-the excitement was doing nothing good for a hangover. "It seemed like a good idea at the time…"

"Yea, I knew about that, too."

"About what?"

"Tim wantin' to get up your skirt."

I looked at him, and I'm sure the look was strange. I wasn't certain what to make out of what he just said. "You could've told me that."

His lip turned up, forming a sly smirk -it was short lived. "Looked like you figured it out on your own."

Faces popped up like phantoms in my mind as I recalled the events of last night, specifically the time I shared with Tim. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was I was thinking. Whatever it was, I'm pretty sure it was stupid. Each face was etched in my memory. They looked at me the same way they looked at Angela; at Sylvia; Evie; at all of the Greaser girls… I have never been looked at like that before, not once. But, I had convinced myself that was what I wanted- to be looked at like all the other girls. Now, I'm not so sure. Actually, that's a lie. I hate it. And I hate myself because I'll never be looked at as Ponygirl Curtis again. I'll just be another Greaser broad. My reputation, the one I thought needed revamped, was ruined. I really don't use my head. I can't believe I let myself fall for an insecure lie like that. Being like everyone is the worst decision I've ever made in my life.

I was wrong before. Sex isn't about control, it's about conformity. Even in the Greaser world. We think we are proving freedom of choice to ourselves every time we spread our legs or get hauled in, but that's not true. In reality, we fall prey to what the rest of the world thinks of us- a bunch of no good sluts and hoods. I never got along with those other girls, anyway. I never understood them or vice versa. I went to such lengths to be like them, though. What a joke I turned out to be.

No, definitely not drinking again. Definitely not.

I felt the front of my head throb as my eyes burned with water, preparing to spill over. A solitary tear slipped from my eye. It rolled down Dally's stomach to be absorbed by the fabric of his jeans, only to be forgotten. Jeans? I didn't notice he had jeans on. I guess he slipped them back on after I fell asleep. He wasn't looking at me, which is good cause I don't want him to see me cry; don't want him to know how affected by things I can get. Could he even understand that? Probably not.

Dallas' face was one of those cemented in my memory. He was angry that night, ready to beat someone's head in. Which he did. He still looked hacked off. "Are you mad at me?"

He bit his lip and shook his head. He looked like he was thinking about something, having an inner debate. In a sudden movement, he reached to get his pack of Kools from the floor. He opened the pack, only to find it empty- a good chance to throw something across the room. The crumpled box landed with a tiny thump. Dally's hands were rigid as he ran them through his hair and over his face. "Sometimes you can be just…so…stupid, Girlie! Do you know that? I mean, do you ever use your head?"

He removed his hands and placed them on the bed. He was shaking his head and I was trying not to run away. If it weren't for the fact that I wouldn't make it to the stairs without killing myself I would have. But I was stuck there, afraid to move; made prisoner by my traitorous body and forced to listen. " I have never meet such a smart person that makes such dumb choices like you, kid." Then he smirked, and it was almost kind. " Nah, I ain't mad at ya. Why in the hell would I be mad at ya, it's your life."

I nodded, but internally I was confused. If he was so upset that I was going to have sex with a hood, then why was he so willing? Why would he say he didn't care if he acted the way he did? What he did and what he says is totally contradictory. Dallas was just too confusing, right now. I knew there was a reason I didn't like him much, even if he was one of my best friends.

Because I never think, I ask, "Dally, why'd you have sex with me? I mean, your on my case about Tim, but you still, well…" I felt my cheeks blush as he looked at me. I really am an idiot. I need to stop hanging around Two-Bit so much, cause it seems I can't keep my mouth shut anymore. I used to be the quiet one.

" Are you serious, Girlie? I was drunk. And you were throwin' yourself at me. Plus, you're pretty easy on the eyes."

"Thank…you?"

"Your not as innocent as everyone thought you were, are you?" I felt the blush on my cheeks deepen and my hangover was getting the best of me. He must have noticed, cause he said, " Okay, so maybe innocent was the wrong word. Boy howdy! You sure can blush, Ponygirl." He paused for a moment and laughed, but I hardly saw the amusement. "Little. Yea, that's it. You ain't the _little girl_ everyone thought you were."

He leaned in closer, making me nervous. "Who taught you how to kiss like that, huh?" I was silent. There is no way I'm telling him. Dally hates Boe with a passion. "It wasn't Boe Brannon, was it? Don't lie, kid. Ya haven't hid it very well. Beds of trucks- ya know, out in the open where everyone can see you- ain't exactly the most secretive of places, if ya catch my drift. Don't help much that he's been telling everyone from here to Texas bout y'all"

I should have expected this, I really should have. It'll only be a matter of time before that gets out…just like last night. "What has he been sayin'?

"Everything. He says that the two of y'all have gone from here to China and back again. Most people don't believe him." He smirked again, and I wondered about the playfulness of it. "And after last night I know for a fact he's a liar." The smirk disappeared and he looked at me almost thoughtfully. "Ya know, kid, you're the first virgin I ever had?"

I was torn between being surprised and not being surprised. "Really? I was your first?"

"Yep." He blew an invisible smoke ring- out of habit, I guess. "So… did it hurt? Or is all them broads lying just to be complainin' about somethin'?"

Should I lie, I wondered? No. I was his first virgin, but probably not his last. May as well tell him what to expect. "Yea… a little. Well, a lot at first. Like, being ripped open." He made a face. "But, after a bit it starts to get better."

"Better?"

"Good."

He was doing that annoying pride thing that guys do, the whole stick out your chest and grin cheekily. When will boys ever learn that girls hate it when they do that? He was soon over it, though. His hand came up to gently grasp my chin, and he turned my face from the right to the left. This wasn't a pleasurable experience. His eyes were focused on something and it made me feel like I was under examination.

Before I could ask him what the deal was, he said, "You're face is lookin' better. The swellin' is down a lot. Does it still hurt?"

"A bit, but not really. Just a bruise."

"Yea, it'll be that way for a while. So get used to it."

"I know."

"Listen here, Girlie. I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Johnnycake. I'm makin' it my personal mission to get the guys that did this to you. Aint nobody gonna hurt you while I'm around, got it? You or Johnny."

His face masked seriousness, a fierce mask of determination and protection. The only time I've ever seen Dallas with this look was when we found Johnny in that vacant lot. I've seen flashes of it dance across his face with the rest of the gang, but they were passing glimpses. Burned out too quickly to name. I was shocked and didn't know what to say to this Dally- the Dally reserved for Johnny- ,so I merely nodded. Having someone like Dallas around to watch your back is surprisingly a good thing.

Suddenly, I was pushed on my back. The movement made my stomach jump and I fought the urge to gag. His fingers left my face to travel down my neck, skimming breezily against my collarbone. Again, I was confused. Dally's eyes were still scanning me, only this time there was amusement swirling mischievously in them. His fingers continued their little search, and when they lightly traced the edge of my bra, they stopped.

"Dal, what are you doin'?"

"Admiring the handiwork."

"Huh?"

"You're gonna have to be careful with what you dress in for a couple of days, maybe a week. Unless, of course, ya want your brothers to find out what 'bad girl' things you've been up to. Personally, I wouldn't want that happening if I were you."

It took all my energy to look down, and when I did my eyes widened. "Good gravy, Dallas! What did you do to me?" There were small reddish-purple marks spotting along the expanse of my collarbone and tops of my breasts. I inwardly blushed, thinking about the lips that were there, in such private places. I was right, I did bruise from last night. I knew I would, I bruise easier than anyone else I know. Then again, everyone else I know are tough Greaser boys.

"Don't pretend you didn't like it, Curtis." Dally's smug voice cut through my thoughts.

"I didn't say I didn't."

"Oh, really?" He laid on top of me gently. I didn't know if I liked it yet or not. But he was warm, and that was good enough.

"It's not fair, though."

"What ain't fair?"

"Look at me! I look like I have some sorta disease or somethin'."

"It ain't like you didn't leave your mark on me, either,_ Little Girl_."

A mark? I'm sure that wasn't what I was trying to do, I thought indignantly. It was my turn to search him, looking first at the places I knew my lips spent most of their time. It didn't surprise me, then, that the first place my eyes went were to his lips. I gulped and quickly averted my attention elsewhere. There were three marks on him: 2 on this neck, right below the ear, and 1 on his chest, where I noticed his deepest scar. I didn't do that, did I? I mean, I have no idea where I got the courage. My throbbing head told me I didn't have to wonder anymore. Alcohol is a dangerous thing, indeed.

_Dear Lord, I gave hickeys to __Dallas Winston_!

I tried to sound indifferent. "Yea, but…I have more than you, so, it's like I said. Not fair." I didn't care that it was a stupid thing to say, I was trying to keep conversation going. I hated awkward silences.

He didn't hear what I had said. He didn't care. "Uh-huh." Those small mumblings were lost in the tangles of my messed up hair, this being because he had his head buried in the pillow next to my neck. I could feel his warm breath on my shoulder as his hand played with the strap of my bra. I stiffened. This wasn't what I wanted to be happening right now. Not at all. But I didn't know what to say, even as his lips and tongue started toying with my already bruised flesh. I should have known better-girls don't just lie half-naked in bed with Dallas without this sort of thing happening. Again.

I tried not to think about it too much, partly because I wasn't sure what to make out of the situation; the other part being that my head felt like it was going to blow up at any moment, shattering this warped up reality and not have any mercy on me or Dally. When he tugged at the bottom of my lip I was surprised, but I responded out of instinct. I wasn't gonna lie to myself. I wasn't gonna say that I didn't enjoy him as he plundered my mouth. I like it. It was true, I could tell by the hot flush that followed his hand as it moved to cup my breast. Nausea singed the back of my throat, but I continued to ignore it. But something was wrong with this, what was happening. My body, no matter how aroused, was still stiff with discomfort. My eyes crinkled. Something was bubbling up inside of me, a banished concern or lingering knowledge. It was telling me what I knew all along: _I wasn't ready for this_. I didn't want to have sex anymore, I'm just not ready. I'm only fifteen.

_I'm only fifteen_!

A lump grew in my throat at an incredibly fast rate, mutated by the panic I was now feeling. I could almost literally feel the color drain from my face as bile corrupted my taste buds. I pushed at Dally's shoulders as I attempted to sit up.

He looked down into my face, shifting back a little more at what he saw. "You okay?"

I closed my eyes and held my breath, uselessly tying to break up the lump that blocked my throat. "No." I sat up quickly, holding my hand over my mouth as a wave of sickness hit me. "Bathroom?"

"Next door on the left."

I jumped up quickly, hoping to hop over Dallas but only succeeding in stepping on his stomach. He grunted loudly, but I was sick and my mind was being selfish, concerning itself with only my needs, which, at this moment, is a toilet.

It should have been terrifying to be anywhere near one of Buck's restrooms, but right now, it was a strange balm. I clutched the edges of the light green toilet after I had finished, leaning my forehead against the seat while the coolness soothed my aching head. This is pathetic.

_If Darry could see me, now.._.

Darry! Sodapop. I forgot about my brothers. Johnnycake... 'Oh, Johnny,' I thought, 'I'm sorry.' Images of my best friend came unbidden to the forefront of my conscience, stirring a guilt that I had never felt before. I would rather live the rest of my life in front of this toilet, puking my guts out, then have to see Johnny's face like it was last night. His black eyes were swollen with a hurt that knocked the breath out of me. I wish I knew why it was there. I'm not a total idiot, I know he was upset about Tim. What I can't figure out, is why. _He doesn't like me. I mean, he cant! Right_?

Would it be so bad if he did?

"Get outta the floor, Girlie."

I didn't realize I had laid down until Dallas' voice shattered my half-asleep musings. It's a good thing he did. Who knows where that train of thought would have led? I didn't get up, though. I couldn't, my body didn't want me to. So, I rolled over and moaned. Looking towards where Dally stood by the sink, I said, "Washcloth."

He was about to protest, but then I felt a sudden pain in my stomach and my eyes clenched, revealing my discomfort. He grumbled out a series of swear words then proceeded to walk out of the bathroom. Dally came back soon enough with a tattered rag in his hands. He turned on the faucet, drenching and ringing the rag as roughly as he could, letting me know he would rather be doing something else. It was all an act, though, I knew. The cigarette he had held between his lips was flicked unceremoniously into the gross bowl I had recently mistreated, before Dally flushed it all away. I looked up at him as he came near, squatting to reach me better. He sighed and shook his head, moving my hair from my face as he pressed the wet rag against my biting skin.

"I need to go home." My voice was hoarse and barely a whisper, but he heard me.

"Like this?"

I was silent.

"Thought not." He lifted the rag to his side opposite of me, swinging it around to get it colder before replacing it. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed. You gotta sleep this off."

I actually whimpered. "No. I can't move."

He rolled his eyes. "Right." Then he told me to hold the rag unless I wanted to leave it here and put his arms underneath my legs and back. I grasped the rag, but held on to Dallas as he carried me back to bed . I was asleep before I ever touched the mattress.

* * *

The next day I laid next to Johnny on cold grass as we watched the clouds breeze by. The sky was calm and undisturbed with little flashes of sun that would peek out from between tree braches. We have been laying here for awhile now, and up until this point I had been quiet.

I had come here with something to say, though, so I was going to say it.

"Johnny have you ever had sex?"

I could almost feel the sudden movement of his head snapping to look at my face- I just knew him too well. Slowly, I turned my eyes to meet his. His mouth was gaping like a fish desperate for water and his face was flushed. It was the most precious combination of red and tan that I had ever seen. Eventually, he closed his mouth, but his eyes were still wide with the sudden unexpectancy of my question.

He's so cute, I thought with just a little bit of guilt.

"I know that was a weird question, Johnnycakes, but, it's just…we've never talked about it before." My hand found his and I squeezed it slightly, offering him reassurance. I couldn't bring myself to let go of his hand, to leave it alone on the hard, cold ground the same way I left him the other night. "You can tell me. You know that." I paused for an uncertain moment. "Don't ya?"

He nodded quickly. "Of course, I know that. That was...that was just a sudden question, is all. Ya took me for a loop."

I grinned faintly. "I guess." I hated to push him, but I tend to rush through things when I get nervous. "Well?"

Johnny huffed and looked away with embarrassment, that color I now found so endearing making an appearance. "Not since Sylvia."

I was shocked. "Wait. What?" My hand had unconsciously held his tighter.

"I didn't mean it like that! Me and..and..Sylvia...we never..." He trailed off there, too flustered to finish. " I meant, after that talk with Steve."

"Then who?" A large part of me cared.

He shrugged. "I had just got in a fight with my old man. He kicked me out and you guys were up state visiting your aunt or somethin', so I wandered around a bit. Do you remember that girl Curly introduced me to?"

I grunted. "The bleached-blonde with a groping problem? She was all into you for awhile. Yea, I remember."

"Well, she was at the Knightly Double. We were in the back, where no one could see us. Well...one thing lead to another and...and when she took me behind the bleachers..."He was stuttering so bad I felt sorry for him. "At the time, I just wanted to see if it was everythin' that Dal said, ya know?"

At the mention of Dallas I mentally cringed. I remembered the girls telling me about sex and the way I felt at the time. "Yea, I know." _I knew more than you would think, Johnnybabe_.

I wanted to shout! The one person I could talk to about last night, I couldn't ever tell. Johnny worshiped Dallas. If he ever found out it would crush him. I decided right there that I would suffer in silence . I wouldn't do that to Johnny. I wouldn't do that to us.

His voice was a whisper when he spoke, again. "Are you mad at me? Please tell me if you're mad, Girlie."

I felt tears of shame burn my soul before falling from my eyes. I'm such a slut! Before I could think, I wrapped my arms around him, laying on top of him, holding my best and most truest friend. _I'm the worst person in the world_.

"No. I could never be mad at you, Johnny."

"Hey, now! What's this all about? All these tears?"

"I'm terrible."

"No." His voice was so serious it shocked me. "No, you're not. Is this about Tim?" I didn't say anything, just rolled so that I wasn't suffocating him anymore. "Girlie, why did you do that, at Buck's?"

I panicked. How did he find out? "What?"

"The..the thing with Tim."

I was shamefully relieved, and just as shamefully I lied to him. " I dunno. Same reason you did, I guess."

He only nodded, then changed the subject. "How did you make it home?"

"Dallas." I had walked through the door around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, a mess. Sodapop was there. He had taken the day off cause he was worried about me. He asked me where I was and I lied. Well, actually, Dallas lied, told him that I got sick and passed out on Buck's couch, but me going along with it was just as bad. Soda was mad, madder than I had ever seen him. But he told me he took up for me when I didn't show last night. Soda had apparently told Darry that I called and said I was staying over at Angela's. That night Soda didn't hold me. That hurt. Bad.

"Will you promise me somethin'?" Johnny's voice interrupted.

_Anything_. "Sure."

His tan face lost that nervous glint that ruined the sweetness of his features, and instead donned a thoughtful, serious understanding. I don't care what anyone says, Johnny Cade is not dumb. "Promise me that you won't end up like the other girls."

Black eyes bore into my green-grey ones. My heart stopped at his words. It was too late for that, wasn't it? "I dunno what you mean." Why did I say that? Why can't my mouth just obey me?

"You're different. Better than anyone else. They ain't worth nothin', Girlie, but you...It's not like that with you. You mean somethin', speacial like. You're just not like them."

I died a little.

"Yes I am."

* * *

_A/N: Again...the book will start to tie in either the next chapter or the one after that._

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello everyone! I know, I know…It's took me forever to update, but I really couldn't help it =[ Anyways, I wanna give a special "thank-you-shout-out" to __**LeftyYypop**__ and __**jmeec316 **__for the reviews. I had some serious doubts about the last chapter, but your feedback helped! _

**A/N: IMPORTANT**! This chapter may seem a little confusing at the beginning- it was intentional. I'm sorry! I just didn't know how to present what's going on and I figured having you ask questions through the whole thing would be as good a way as any! So…just so we're clear, stick with me on this chapter.

-And in case you have forgotten, or if I just didn't mention it, Girlie is 15 going on 16 in this, and Johnny is 17. However, Girlie and Johnny are the only characters to have an altered age. Except Soda! Instead of being 16 goin' on 17, he's almost 18 (totally forgot him, lol). Darry, Two-Bit, Dallas, and Steve remain their original ages.

- Also, I'm sorry if this seems to go fast, but I'm trying to set the AU world for my fic as quickly as I can so that I can move on to the events in the book, which will more than likely be in the next update!

_**Please enjoy this and ignore any and all grammar/spelling mistakes that are in this mess of words! Lol. Oh! And PLEASE review? You haven't a clue what they mean to me ;p**_

_**P.S: There's some Girlie/Johnny is this chapter ;p**_

* * *

**Chapter 5**~

I was almost afraid to move, afraid to breathe cause I didn't want to disturb him.

Soda was very still this night, an eerily strange thing. He is almost always a bouncing ball of all things hyper, and even in his sleep he's moving. But not tonight. That's how I know he's overdone it; his body was still as death, but his face was contorted and troubled. Soda was oblivious to the world, his energy sapped out of him from the extra hours he hauled in at work this evening, or, yesterday evening, being that it's not even four in the morning. His body looked strained, tight, and I could almost wince at how coiled the muscles in his back must be from being bent over cars all day. I would hate to know the back pain Darry endures. The thought stirred guilt in the most feeling part of my stomach- a bitter sensation.

The DX had a particularly busy day yesterday. Students flocked there in hordes, and not just the unflattering girls of Soda's fan club. They were all excited; it was the last day of school for that year and they were all looking forward to summer vacation. Most of the Socs were planning road trips and bonfires in the backwoods of the country a few miles south, eager to throw another notorious beer blast without the lieu of Tulsa finding out and tarnishing whatever good name they bought themselves. Greasers were packing in for the traditional camping trip held every year at this time. A different spot is chosen every year, so I'm not certain where it'll be; somewhere the fuzz won't be lurking, waiting for a no good hood to mess up and haul in, that's for sure. Seeing as the two social groups had these plans, car tune-ups were needed.

Yea, Sodapop had a hard day and I really didn't want to wake him. But I was about to pull my hair out. I had been staring at the same cracked ceiling for over an hour. All the lines were forging together, succeeding in creating one large imperfection that I couldn't name- it was too wide to be a large crack and not deep enough to be a hole-, and it was really starting to get boring.

Normally, I wouldn't have this sort of problem; I could stare off into nothing but the colorless and tasteless atmosphere for hours on end, simply daydreaming and not offering the world around me a second thought.

Things have changed, though.

I've changed. And the reason for that change is making me uncomfortable sharing a bed with Soda- _Sodapop_, my brother, whom I've cuddled with since I was practically born and could confide in with anything- but I couldn't help it. There is a secret I carry now, and it was a strange burden; I don't think I've ever had a secret before, something that was exclusive to my knowledge and mine alone. Living with a constant full house was probably a reason. The other reason being that I've never _had_ to keep a secret. I was afraid Soda would find out, and that terrifies me. Extremely. There has never been a problem that I couldn't come to him about, never been anything that would cause me to lose that sense of security I have with him. But something has shaken that. I'm afraid everyone will find out, especially now that school's out for summer. I'll be here all the time, surrounded by the curiously watchful eyes of my brothers and the gang. I didn't know what I was going to do… Running away was high on my list, but that just couldn't be an option. Not while Johnny is still living next door, if you could call that hell pit living.

I'm surprised that my way of thinking has escalated to the point of causing me a fitful case of insomnia. Less than 12 hours ago I was sitting in a public bathroom, frozen, like that moment in time would last forever. I couldn't move, couldn't think, and I was so certain that my stomach would remain that fear-caused chunk of ice that it had become upon receiving that _particular _kind of news; any newly turned sixteen-year-old would agree.

_It was times like now that I really needed my mommy_.

That old clock that we kept in our room was ticking away on the mantle, and I wanted to do nothing more than smash it against a wall. Time was moving on without me, continuing in a never ending pattern of seconds and minutes and hours. Time was cruel; it knew I was stuck, paralyzed in my mind, wanting desperately to halt everything, stop it and get off to take a breath and evaluate my next step. Because time brings change, and change is something I cant afford right now. This f_amily _couldn't afford it, either. I wasn't sure what the actual time was; the old clock was off by a certain number of minutes. I cant remember how many exactly, just that it was odd enough to be an annoyance. But what's a few minutes, anyways? A lot, apparently, it you take life into consideration.

We had left the window open.

It was a hot night, but it was utterly pleasant. A slight breeze would filter into the room and influence a few strands of my hair to move odd ways along my shoulders and neck. Tulsa would be carried into the Curtis house along those small gusts of wind: freshly cut grass, car oil and grease, beer, and smoke from more than one source. I didn't know what to make of it. Should I cry? I was honestly contemplating running away-I would have to cause I couldn't possibly stay here- and this could be one of the last times I smell this familiar "home" smell. But then again, maybe that's okay. Isn't home supposed to be the place where your parents are? Where you feel loved and welcomed, and not like a burden? Where you feel totally safe and secure, a feeling of complete ease doing something as mundane as walking down the street?

Yes, my brain reasoned. That is exactly what home is supposed to be.

Problem is…I don't have any of those things. I can't walk down the street by myself without risk of being hurt by a group of rich drunk kids who considered themselves better than me. My mom and dad were taken almost a year ago, and at the point of my young life that I needed them the most. Especially mom. I have Soda to love me, and that's about all I have, besides Johnnycake, of course. But I honestly don't believe that's enough to keep me here. Darry hated me. Those moments when he would hold me and whisper those things he used to, those things that assured me of the bond we had as a family, were few and far between. Most of the time he was hollering at me or chastising me for something that I've done or that I haven't done and should be doing. I felt like I was the world's largest failure in his ice-blue eyes. He held no contempt for me, no tenderness, and I truly have myself believed that the only gentleness he bares to show towards me is due to the fact that I'm a girl, not his little sister. The person he used to be was sucked dry when our parents died, and the only bit of his old self he has left is reserved for Sodapop.

I'm nothing here. Just the girl, the little sister, and another mouth that neither of my brothers, even with their combined salaries, could afford to feed. Me being here was just another dent in the wallet, and especially now. Now, I truly believed those things. Even if I have to lie to myself, it's what I need to believe right now. I know I'm not seeing the big picture, or the little picture, or maybe not any picture at all, but it's what I'm forcing myself to believe.

It makes it easier to leave this way.

I didn't realize I had gotten up from bed, but I was silently amazed. I guess I did it while I was lost in thought. Darry always said I was doing stuff like that: not paying attention to what I'm doing when I've got something on my mind. I wasn't about to complain, though. Soda hadn't stirred, not an inch, and I was finally free to abandon this room with it's clock that wouldn't obey me and it's ceiling with too many unnamable problems.

My bare feet didn't make a sound as I padded down the slender hallway, my goal being a glass of chocolate milk. It was a short trip to the kitchen and I was happy for that fact. I don't know why. I just feel that with less space gives me less opportunities to screw up and alert my brothers of my presence. The thought of talking to them, confronting them, wasn't an appealing one.

Tip-toeing passed Darry's door made me falter; I stumbled with a brief guilt at some of the thoughts I've had about him. But they evaporated quickly under the heat of my concentration. I didn't want to think about how hard my oldest brother worked at his two jobs, or the injuries he's gotten because of them. I didn't want to think of the time he's sacrificed and the life he could've had but chose to step away from for the sake of his siblings.

I just…didn't want to think about it.

Light brown carpeting ended, giving way to a different type of material when I reached the kitchen. I couldn't tell you what the floor material was, but it was cold and shiny, easy to clean up messes on, and peeled in the winter. I know it's silly not to know what it's called, but forgive me if I've never paid attention to something I have absolutely no interest in knowing. The pat pat pating that echoed in small whispers from my feet slapping slowly against this unknown floor has always made me smile. For some unfathomable reason, it reminds me of being a kid sneaking into the cupboard for that last cookie your mom said you couldn't have.

As I opened the fridge door, I shook my head at my simple thoughts. My head was always filled with these types of musings, and a lot of people mistake them for "daydreaming". I just don't see them as that. Like I said, they were simple thoughts, brought on by simple things and resurrecting simple memories. No, I wouldn't call it daydreaming at all. It was just the way my mind worked, I think; it was the way I pieced words together to describe the things I see and hear everyday.

Our kitchen was full of a whole lot of nothing, I noticed warily, scanning the contents of the fridge. There was a half-empty jar of pickles (missing a lid, I might add), a new loaf of bread, cheese, mustard, and whatever else you needed to make a decent sandwich. There was a slab of roast beef that I knew Darry was wanting to make for dinner sometime this week, and various vegetables. There really wasn't much. Everything was either half-way eaten or almost completely eaten. The bad thing about that is that Darry just went grocery shopping two days ago.

I rolled my eyes from a strange mixture of amusement and agitation as I noticed one item that had absolutely no business among the others. I repressed a sigh as I removed Soda's shoe from the icebox; I don't even want to know how it got in there. When it came to Sodapop, who could tell? He was always doing something outlandish like that.

A chocolate cake that Darry had made earlier that day was sitting innocently enough in it's proper cooling place. I stared at it for a minute, remembering about two weeks back with a heavy frown.

I had been doing the exact same thing I was doing now, except for the fact that I was getting ready to go to school. My stomach had been rumbling and I wanted some breakfast, and in this house that usually meant chocolate cake. I had taken that third bite and instantly regretted it. I spent the next thirty minutes throwing-up the dinner I had the night before and the "breakfast" from that morning. Needless to say, I didn't go to school that day. The next morning was worse, and was the same story for the next few following mornings. Darry just excused it as some sort of stomach bug. He had opted to stay home with me after it continued for a week, but I really didn't see the point. I hadn't been nauseous throughout the whole day and I felt completely fine after I finished throwing-up. It was strange, I had thought, and stranger still that the only thing that made me want to throw-up was chocolate cake. Not just eating it, either, but the smell and the look of it, even the very thought of it sent my stomach rolling and me reeking in the closest and most convenient place I could find. Except for that one time last week when I spotted the hamper and decided that was a good place to release my stomach acid. I hadn't meant for it to happen like that, of course, but I couldn't help it. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

_If I knew then what I know now, it would have also been one of the scariest_.

That slow churning was very slowly seizing my stomach, so I shut the freezer door as quickly and quietly as I could. I abandoned all thoughts of chocolate cake at the foot of the fridge, and opened the door again to grab what I had originally came in here for in the first place: chocolate milk. I grabbed a glass from the clean pile we had stashed near the sink and filled it until the milk came dangerously close to the edge. I had put too much in it, I thought. I warily moved my head to meet the glass, not for an instant trusting my clumsy hand with bringing the glass to my lips. After two large gulps I was satisfied that I could now carry the glass without it sloshing it's contents in every which direction.

What to do, now?

I didn't want to risk going outside just yet. The screen door was incredibly loud and I didn't want to take the off-chance that it would wake up one of my brothers. Besides, Darry would be up in about an hour, anyway. I can sit in the living room until then, maybe plan out the next stage of my life- how I'm going to get a job and things like that.

The living room was still ungenerously dark, but that didn't stop me from making out a very distinct lump curled up in a ball on the couch. That lump could only be one person; it was too little to be Two-Bit, Steve always leaves on the T.V when he dozes off, and Dallas, well…Dallas has been in the cooler for almost three months, now.

I went back to the kitchen and sat my glass on the counter before walking closer to him. Johnny was sleeping with his body towards me, but his dark hair fell over one side of his face, leaving that part of tan flesh unexposed to my greedy eyes. I made myself comfortable by sitting on my knees and very tenderly moved his hair- I wanted so badly to see his face- and I had to bite my lip so that I wouldn't cry outright.

Tears came easier these days, I realized.

I was used to seeing my Johnny in bruises, but this wasn't just a bruise. He had a large, bleeding whelp marring the left side of his cheek; it stretched from his high cheekbone to his temple, and I wanted to kill his parents right then and there. My hand was steady despite my raging emotions as I very softly, as softly as I could physically manage, caressed his face. I've been touching him a lot more lately, I realized as I bent down to kiss his brow and then his nose.

_'I've been doin' that a lot more lately, too'_.

I couldn't tell you why…Maybe it was because I was sixteen, now. Is this the way a sixteen-year-old girl acts concerning the boy she finds to be more precious than the others? Or, maybe, it was because of that night 3 months ago? I still haven't been able to shake that memory of what his face looked like when I abandoned him at Buck's. The guilt of that night still remains as undamaged as the picture, and now I know it would be impossible to shake it. I hade left him there, alone, uncomfortable in a crowd of hoods that he didn't know if he could trust. His eyes, those beautiful black eyes, had accumulated so much hurt and wariness throughout the years, so much distrust, and I am sick to the knowledge that I helped those eyes cry just a little bit more…cause of that night.

_So many things are bound to happen 'cause of that night_.

I loved him. He is my best friend, after all, has been since I was four. But it's a different kind of love, now. It's not so much what I feel, because I've always felt certain ways towards this abused boy, but it's what I know. I don't believe that love is an emotion; emotions are mindless feelings that change and flitter away as quickly as they come. Not love. Love isn't something that changes because the person changes, love, true love, is forever. I've seen it demonstrated in my parents. My mom told me that she trusted my father, understood who he was and what he was about, then knew she could fall in love with him. Love is a choice. And I chose long ago, when I saw my best friend at 8 years old being dragged through the street by the hair by his drunk mother, that I would love Jonathon Matthew Cade. I just didn't know it then.

My fingers left his face and moved to stroke his black hair. It was greasy, greasier than it was intended, and I knew he had been spending his nights in the lot and his days away from his house. It made me mad. He should have come here. He knows he can come here. I didn't care that his hair was dirty, though, it didn't bother me, but I would tell him to use our shower when he woke up in the morning. Everyone deserves to be clean.

"Don't hit me again, pa ," he whimpered in his sleep.

My hand stilled. A tear slid down my cheek at the injustice of it all. No kid should have to be afraid while they sleep, especially because of their folks. _Not Johnny!_ I leaned down and pressed another kiss against his worry-wrinkled forehead. "It's okay. It's just me, Johnnycake," I whispered, my eyes closed and nose rubbing against his. I wanted to protect him so badly that it hurt.

"Girlie?" He scrunched his face while opening his eyes. He was a little disoriented, like when you fall asleep in a different place and wake up forgetting where you are. His black eyes were still glazed with sleep, but he smiled at seeing my face. Johnny tried to raise up but I stopped him.

"Don't get up, Johnnycake. I was just checkin' on ya."

He settled back down with a grunt. "What are you doin' up? There's no school for awhile, or did ya forget?" He was teasing me.

"Haha," I replied with half-hearted grin. "No, I just…have a lot on my mind, is all."

His eyes had closed, preparing to fall back asleep, but they opened again when he heard that I may have had a problem. I felt bad that I had woken him up. Now, he's going to worry about me, and that's the last thing he needs. Johnny's got enough problems of his own, he doesn't need me adding more to it. "Wanna talk?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe."

"You can talk to me. If ya want, I mean. Ya don't have to."

He sounded uncertain, like he overstepped some boundary by asking me to talk. It made me feel bad when he got like that. He needed some confidence in himself. He never has to feel uncertain with me, ever. I know he knows that; I guess, it's just second nature for him to be careful of people's reactions.

I slowly shook my head. "It aint that."

"No?"

"No." It was the truth. I did want to talk to him about it. I wanted to spill everything to him, all of it: my secret, what happened with Dally, running away, and the way I want to be with him. I'm a coward, though. I already decided that I couldn't tell him about Dallas, it would destroy him, and I was afraid it would come tumbling out of my mouth if I started spilling things, now. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. " I wanna tell ya, Johnny, I do. I just don't know how to say it."

He looked confused. "Whattaya mean?"

There was a pressure building in my stomach and behind my eyes, and tears came unbidden. But they felt necessary, like my eyeballs would pop out if I didn't cry. I didn't mind, though. I could always cry in front of Johnny. Just Johnny. I opened my mouth, prepared to tell him the truth cause that's the way I wanted it to be with him. Always truthful. "I don't want you to hate me," I squeaked. Those emotions, the effect and consequences of my actions, and my overall need for this boy in front of me, made my voice raw and rough- they were just desperate to escape somehow.

"I could never hate you, Girlie. And I mean that. Never!" His voice was serious and sounded just as emotional as I was. "I love you, Ponygirl Michelle Curtis; you're my best friend."

I had to love him. There was no other way to describe it; best friend just didn't cut it anymore. I could get mad at him, I wasn't going to lie, but I couldn't stay mad at him longer than a minute. I could never hold anything against him, even if there was a chance- a very slim chance- that he deserved it. Looking at him, his torn appearance, and listening to him, his gentle way of speaking, as if he would scare them off-there was no other choice for me but to be kind to him. Not that he didn't deserve to be treated kindly; he had the sweetest heart. I even found myself wanting to be patient with him, and I lack patience with everyone, even Sodapop. Johnny is the one person in my life that I could never imagine giving up on, even Dallas feels the same way.

I cried harder. "Can I just, I just wanna lay with ya, Johnny. Will you hold me?"

I didn't wait for a response, but laid on top of him, sliding my arms underneath his and grasping his shoulders as if my sanity depended on it. He didn't mind, I knew because he held on to me.

I've always loved him, I realized, and now I've admitted it. But I'm sixteen, and he'll be eighteen soon. Isn't it about time we move in a different direction? I mean, I couldn't image myself trusting or loving someone as much as I love Johnny, and the thought of him in someone else's care? Not happening! I don't want any one else to touch him; I've never wanted that. At first, it started out as a protective desire for him to never get hit again, not like he is now, or anyway, ever. But now, even though that first concern is stronger than ever, I couldn't stomach the idea of someone else, some other girl, touching him. The idea of him holding another girl like he's holding me, or loving someone else the way I _know_ he loves me, makes me physically unstable. I could fight someone, that's how much the thought made me mad. It seemed _wrong_ to me that another girl would love him, and that's probably when I started loving him in a way other than friendly.

"Is everything okay, Girlie?"

"No."

There was a small pause, filled in by only the sound of my sobs. "I aint gonna lie, Girlie, it's killin' me that there's something goin' on with you that I don't know about, cause I can't help you not knowin'. We do still tell each other everything, right?"

I lifted my head, making it a point to look him in the eyes. "Of course, Johnnycake. Don't be silly." He nodded, sheepish, like he asked the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Okay…"

"Huh?"

"I'll tell you, but-but not tonight, okay?"

"I haven't seen you like this since your folks. It scares me. You…you aint in any kinda, uhm, tr-trouble, are ya?"

I just rested my head back against his chest, feeling more like an unwanted burden than before. "Not tonight."

He yawned, then said, "Alright, Ponygirl. Whenever you're ready, I'm listenin'."

_Whenever I'm ready_… I'll never be ready for what I needed to tell him, I thought. Right now, I just want to be held by him. Today is my birthday party, and I had totally forgotten about it until just now. The guys, and by that I mean the gang, always threw me a party the day after my birthday. _Oh, man. _

According to Soda, Johnny has been in love with me for awhile now. I had to tell him the sentiment was a shared one. In a way, I had become extremely happy about my party, it presented the perfect opportunity to tell him that I love him, too. I'll give him the chance to respond, and give myself a chance to be loved back by him. _It really isn't fair_. I figure out that I want nothing more than to accept my love for Johnny and move pass the stage of friendship, then I have to tell him that I've lost my virginity to someone else- that someone being his hero-, and ruin all the happiness we could've finally had being together by telling him this secret I have because of it.

I had to tell him; I had to tell him that I love him.

And then I'll tell him that I'm pregnant.

* * *

_Okie Dokie, folks! Now we are getting int__o the cream and corn of the story! Things are finally gonna start getting into the book realm! I'm so excited!_

_It killed me writing all that stuff about Darry. I love him so much! But, alas, it is from Ponyvision, lol._

_Anyways…__**PLEASE REVIEW? **__I need all the encouragement I can get, that is, __**IF**__ you want another chapter_.

;p


	6. Chapter 6

It has been a long time since I've updated, and I am so sorry for that! But I would like to thank everyone who faved my story, and to those of you who reviewed – _**charliewalflower, ministryofsound2189, smart-cinderella, synsystersixx, and silverpantherSM**_. You've all made my day! You are also the reason I'm continuing this, so thanks for the support :)

A/N: Starting from this chapter and continuing for the rest of the story, I'm going to try and slow it down a 'bit. The beginning of this chapter will probably be the last time I skip ahead a few months, so there should be more _actual_ story instead of ground work (lol). I'm not sure how much that means to you, haha, but I just reckoned I'd throw it out there.

-Something else I would like to point out is appearances/descriptions. I know I've mentioned it before, but I figure it wouldn't hurt to say it again. In my mind, Girlie looks a lot like Amy from Secret Life of the American Teenager with curlier/redder hair and greener eyes. Dally looks like movie version Dally (I just LOVE Matt Dillon :] ). Sodapop, Darry, Steve, Tim, Johnny, and Two-Bit look the way they do in the book.

-In case you are confused…this is a little over a month AFTER the last chappie.

Again, thanks to those who are interested in this fic! And, of course, to S.E. Hinton for giving us the greatest book in the WORLD! Haha (I forgot to give her props before);p

* * *

**Chapter 6~**

Picking out something to wear has become a bit of challenge.

It's strange looking into your closet, seeing all of your clothes, but not being able to fit into any of them. I've always been a little bit on the petite side, and so my clothes would had to have been the same, which is the problem, because I haven't needed to buy new clothes in awhile. Being near 5 months pregnant has changed my usually small body, and my already limited wardrobe has become even more limited. I have never been this big before and I know I'll just keep getting bigger. It makes me feel like I'm going to explode before I even have a chance to have the kid.

The guys have barely noticed, being the guys that they are, but they _have_ noticed, and I know it won't be much longer that I can hide behind the "I'm just gaining a little extra weight" lie. It's a good lie, though, I have to admit. It helps that I keep myself as busy as I can and away from the house as much as possible. The only time I'm ever home anymore is to sleep or get ready for work. This summer I finally convinced Darry to let me get a job. I'm waitressing now at the Dingo, the hotspot for all of us on this side of the tracks. It may be a little rough around the edges- the paint is peeling off and there are stains and tears in most of the seats- but anyone will agree when I say that it serves some of the best food there is, and it has a clean and inviting atmosphere. Dottie is the lady that owns the joint, and she takes care of the place the best she can. That's what makes my weight gain excuse so convincing; nobody can resist Dottie's loaded potato-bites and bacon cheeseburgers. Seeing that I work there 5 to 6 days a week, the issue of me gaining a "few extra pounds" doesn't seem out of place to the gang, especially considering that I've been working there for over a month.

I smoothed my hands across my stomach, straightening out the invisible wrinkles of Darry's old shirt. It's a nervous habit I picked up, to look in the mirror all the time. I'm paranoid that someone is going to notice the hard swell of my belly, recognizing my growing size for what it is. But the too large shirt, belonging on the wide shoulders of a boy and not hanging off the slender ones of a girl, covered me nicely; nice enough that my bulge was hidden and I just looked like I was gaining some meat around my stomach. My bra size has gone up a bit, too, and my hips have a softer curve to them. Finally some curves for the growing girl, everybody has been saying. Two-Bit's teasing is driving me crazy.

I was used to this particular green and gold plaid button-up. I've wore it so much because there is only a few things I can wear. About a couple of months ago I went through the hallway closet that has all of our old clothes in it. No one goes in there anymore, not since mom and dad died. I had found some things, not a whole lot, but enough to do me until I saved up enough money to get out of here. There was about four of Darry's old shirts from high school stuffed in there-I had to steal Darry's because Soda has a smaller frame and they didn't cover me all that well-and a couple pairs of his and Sodapop's jeans. The jeans looked like they've been ran through the mill once or twice, but I didn't mind much because they had fit me with a little room to grow in. The only thing I really had to do was hem them. My brothers are tall and I'm, well, not so tall. My hips look weird in them, too. Boys are narrow where girls are curvy, but until I can afford to buy some new skirts I refuse to complain.

Then there were the clothes that had belonged to mom. I could barely stand to look at them while they were on the hanger, but when I forced myself to try on a few of her more flowey blouses, it's like I couldn't stop looking at myself. I was transfixed by what I had seen-I had looked so much like her, so much that she was almost here again. Now I wear her clothes as often as I can. There is a beige colored one with little pink roses on it that I can't get enough of; it's my favorite blouse. The first couple of days that I'd worn her stuff had been hard on my brothers. It was too painful for them, too soon, but I just didn't have a choice. They told me that I had never looked more like mom, but eventually it was because of that very fact that they have come to actually like my new clothes, my new clothes from an old wardrobe that wasn't mine.

I felt like I could be close to her again. I needed that. I had questions that I had to ask her, things about my hard belly and growing size. I was too young to have a baby, I knew that. But I don't blame the kid, it's my fault, and I'm worried about how it's doing. Is it growing right inside of me? Does it have all its parts, all fingers and toes? Would mom and dad be happy they were going to be grandparents? I have never felt so lonely in my life. It's not like I have anyone I could talk to about it. It's rare that girls my age get pregnant, I've only known of one other girl personally who did. Her name was Susie Maywood, and as soon as word got out, she suddenly had to go visit a sick aunt in Idaho. Nobody has seen her since. That's what happens to young girls that get pregnant: they either leave town or walk into school married all of a sudden. Let's just say that I wasn't expecting to get married anytime soon.

I'm worried about the baby. I have to get out of Greaser territory. I don't want the kid to have to put up with all the rivalries; it already has to be brought into this world by a screw-up like me.

It has to be brought into this world at all….

It was bad enough to be looked down upon for being a Greaser, which is something we have no control of. Being a pregnant sixteen-year-old? That was something I _did_ have control over. I was going to be judged for the rest of my life, but I was prepared for that, and used to it in a way. At least I'll be out of here soon. At least I'll be around people I don't know; why should I care what people who don't mean anything to me think about me? I was being a coward by running away, but I just wouldn't be able to handle telling my brothers. It's not so much Darry I'm worried about, he hated me anyway. It was Sodapop. I don't think anyone could ever stand hurting him. But I _did _care about Darry. It doesn't matter, though, because as soon as word gets out the state will take me away from him. That's why I've decided to just leave on my own. Seems better to just walk away, instead of dragged out of your own house like a bad puppy that bit at the kids and needed to be taken away because it probably had some kind of disease. That's what they all thought about us anyway…Just a disease that needed taken care of. Nothing more than that. No voice, no feelings, no real importance. Nothing.

The same clock I've used since I was old enough to get myself up for school was sitting on the faded dresser of my vanity. I always set it far enough away from the bed that I have to actually get up to turn it off, otherwise I'd just keep turning it off by reaching over to the nightstand and never move from my bed.

It was 12 o'clock and I haven't even left my room yet. I moved back in here about a week after I found out I was pregnant. Soda and I have this habit of cuddling, and he likes to fling his arm over my neck or waist. I always loved being close to him, but I guess I've always known that I couldn't sleep with him forever. We started sharing his bed when mom and dad died because I was having what doctors had called "night terrors". The doctor had a simple solution, though: read more, draw more, play more. It had worked. By the time I was ready to go to sleep my mind was so exhausted that it just didn't want to dream anymore. Now, I have work to keep me busy. That's why I had woken up so late, I was just so tired from my shift last night. I used to wake up early, early enough that I could watch the sunrise break through the morning mist and evaporate the dew that coated the grass. Those days seemed like years ago, not a few months ago.

The house was quiet. Almost too quiet. No one's here, I thought, because if they were there would be some kind of noise going on. Darry, Sodapop, and Steve were at work. I would be at work too if Dottie didn't give me the day off for hauling the extra hours from another girl's shift. Okay, so I didn't want the day off, I hated being worried at home, but she practically forced me; said I worked too hard for a kid.

I gulped down a glass of orange juice, taking extra care to avoid confrontation with chocolate milk, and then pushed open the door. I made sure to leave it unlocked. We never locked the door because too many times one of the boys in my gang need the place, whether it was for sleeping off a hangover, lying low, or simply a place to eat and take a shower. We don't have anything worth stealing anyway, no one on this side of town does, and so there usually aren't any house robbers that even bother. The door will always be open for whoever needs it. One time I had come home from school and actually found Tim Shepard sitting in Darry's chair. He looked up when he heard me come in, gave me a smile that had unnerved me-the kind that said he knew something- and nodded in my direction. What had surprised me more than the fact that Tim was in my living room in the first place, was when he folded up the paper and sauntered over to me with enough sly grace to make me jealous. He's always been sleek like that, he reminded me of a big cat, and at that moment I felt like a mouse. "Hey, Baby Curtis," he had said while wrapping his scarred arms around my waist. Tim Shepard, leader of the Shepard gang, had kissed me that day for the second time in a month. I wasn't surprised enough that I didn't know what was going on, but I still didn't know how to react. So I kissed him back. What else was I supposed to do? He left shortly after when we heard Soda and Steve come in on their lunch break. They had perfect timing, I had thought. Guilt crept on me and flashes of that night at Buck's gnawed at my conscience until I couldn't stand it anymore.

Thinking back always made me feel guilty, but I've decided to just let it go. The damage is done and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't live my life dwelling on something I can't change, eventually it would destroy me. I needed to focus on something else, so I took a good look at my surroundings. There was a stocky figure snoring on our porch swing, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels snuggled safely in his arms as he swayed back in forth. I wasn't surprised to find him there. He has fallen asleep in stranger places, a trash can being one of them. I walked over to him.

"Two-Bit." He grunted. I rolled my eyes and tried again. "Two-Bit wake up, ya lazy bum."

"Ahh, come on, mom…" He mumbled while throwing one of his arms over his face. I couldn't tell if he was actually asleep or just trying to be a pain in my back. You could never tell with the neighborhood funnyman.

"Oh, no you don't. Get up!"

"Go away!"

"Up, Two-Bit!"

"Leave me alone!" He whined. Whined, can you believe it? An eighteen-year-old Grease whining because he didn't want to wake up. I shook my head in mild disbelief, grabbing the bottle tucked next to his chest. Two-Bit was caring for that bottle like it was a new born. "Hey!"

"Get up and get in the house and I'll give it back. You can fall right back to sleep on the couch. You look like an idiot sprawled out the way ya are on the porch swing-on _my_ porch swing, mind you-in broad daylight!"

He grumbled a few unintelligible words before making an effort to do as he was told. His long arms stretched above his head and his back arched like a cat as he sat up. I looked at him for a minute, wondering what it was like inside his head. He was always looking at the bright side of things, and could find a joke in things that just weren't meant to be funny. Two-Bit believed that if you thought it was going to be okay and then said it was going to be okay, then it just had to be okay. He was almost nineteen and still a junior in high school. He had no job, no responsibilities, and no cares, and for the slightest moment I was mad at him because he didn't realize that he was an adult and I was a child. It wasn't fair that he was the one that got to live the life I was supposed to be living- carefree and void of restrictions, as a teenager.

"Why'd you have to go and wake me up, kid? I was havin' one of the best dreams…" He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to right himself and clear the sleep from his eyes.

"Because it's twelve o'clock and you'dve slept the day away if I hadn't. Why didn't Darry or Soda wake you up?"

"I dunno. Superman was yellin' at me on his way to the truck. I can't remember what about and he was in too much of a hurry to actually give a damn."

" You look awful."

"Yea, well, I feel awful." He grumbled, but amazingly his dopey smile was plastered on his face. "Gotta helluva hangover."

"You've always got a hangover, Two-Bit." It was true, he drank like a fish. "What'd you do last night?"

"Just some fun, baby." The way he said it mixed with that twinkle in his eye had me convinced that it was a whole lot more than that. He opened his mouth to enlighten me with the details of his "fun" and I wished I hadn't asked. "Me and this pretty little blonde-thing, you see, spotted this nice abandoned ally after that party I went to at the ol' Pexmille property. She liked it when …I…" He trailed off, his eyes focused on something far away. He stood up, looking out father behind my head. "Well, I'll be…Here comes trouble."

I turned my head to see what he was talking about, and saw one of the last things I would've expected to see. When Two-Bit said that trouble was on its way, I trained my ears to pick up the sound of a red Corvair or possibly a sharp looking Mustang. I thought that some Soc's had taken it upon themselves to venture onto Greaser territory, again. I had thought wrong. Trouble didn't come in the form of Soc's, and now that I think on it, the way Two-Bit said it was in a teasing sort of way. Now, I know why, because trouble came in the shape of our good buddy.

Dallas Winston was walking down the street with his head held high and a strut to his walk. He was as mean and tuff looking as the last time I saw him. His eyes were the same blazing brown, burning with a hate for the whole world. As hard as I tried to block the image of a different burning in his eyes, I couldn't. I'll never be able to forget what Dallas looked like without all the hate and anger and bitterness, and that's because I've only seen him without all of those things a handful of times; they were apart of him, after all. But never had he lost it all on _me_. Dally had a pleasured expression on his face that night from all of the booze and the weed and the sex, but he still had it, and it had amazed me while it lasted. It's like he had absorbed my eyes, soaked up all my attention in such a way that I had even dreamt about it. His face…

The smaller figure of the boy next to Dallas stole my attention for a moment, because this wasn't a dream or that night at Buck's. This was the present, and presently, I couldn't care about anything else whenever I'd see him. Especially whenever he had a new bruise or scar, or when there was that slow calculating look in his eyes that told the world he was weary of everyone. This boy would have my attention until I knew every part of him was safe.

When I had walked passed the old couch in my living room I had wondered where Johnny was, afraid that he had slept the night in the lot or at his folks' place. Sometimes, I knew Johnny would just meander around until it was daylight so he could waste time with Two-Bit or at the DX. It upset me when he would do that, and it also made me feel horrible. Over a month ago, after my birthday, when I had fallen asleep with him on the couch, things haven't been the same between the two of us. It wasn't him, it was all me. It's always me. I had chickened out. I didn't tell him. I don't know what was wrong with me that morning, anyways. Must have been the hormones. I can't really explain it, but it's like I fell asleep in his arms with every intention of telling him what happened and about my feelings for him, but woke up with every urge not to.

By the time they had pushed open the rusty door of our gate, I was sure I had picked every little string that had hanged loose at the ends of my shirt. Well, not necessarily, but I was so nervous that I may as well have. Didn't help much that I gave up on cigarettes, cause usually when I'm nervous or anxious a smoke or two always calmed me down. I had relied on them for a long time, but for some reason cigarette smoke makes me have the worst headaches since I've gotten pregnant, and what's worse is they make me incredibly dizzy.

But, man! What I'd do for a weed right now.

"Well, hey man! Johnny, where'd you pick up a hood like this? I thought they were all out of stock down at the market!" Two-Bit laughed in that merry way he does whenever he makes a joke that he thinks is absolutely hilarious. He jumped off the porch with more enthusiasm than a person with a hangover should, though I should know by now that something as trivial as that couldn't keep ol' Two-Bit down. He rushed down to meet them half-way up the walk, but I choose to hang around the porch for just a bit longer.

I felt unsure of myself. The last time I had talked to Dallas was the day he got arrested, and that was over three months ago. It was different then. Even after the morning he brought me home from Buck's with a hangover, things weren't any different between the two of us, or not _that_ different, anyways. Everything carried out the same, especially for Dally. He acted the way he always has, just like I knew he would. He continued to treat me the same way, but some of the things he had done even before that night I had never really noticed before. Things like the suggestive remarks he would direct my way, how he would always invade my personal space and lower his voice to make a point, or how his hand would "accidentally" brush my thigh or backside. Though, I had to admit, he did get a little more forward with me, more abrasive, and I was a bumbling mess because of it, which he found very amusing. Strangely, he never told anyone about it-strange because Dallas was one of the worst to brag. Whenever the guys would start getting riled up in their sex stories-something even Sodapop joined-, I was terrified Dally would slip and say something about us, or say something anyways just because he could. He never did, though. And I have a strange feeling it was because he was trying to not hurt Johnny, that and he didn't want Darry to find out. Nobody would want that. Dally had stayed loyal to his word and started to watch Johnny and me like a hawk; as far as he was concerned, it would be a cold day in hell that another Soc touches either of us. Eventually, I had relaxed whenever Dally was around. I had nothing to worry about, I thought.

That was then, and then I didn't know Dallas had gotten me pregnant.

"I didn't know you were out of the cooler yet, Dal. I thought you were in for 'bout 150 days." I was trying to be brave by talking to him, taking that first step to a normalcy I knew would never really be again.

"Got out early. Good behavior."

I set the Jack Daniels down and made my way over to them one slow step at a time, stopping to stand by Johnny. "Sure, Dally. For some odd reason I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it or not, baby, here I am."

"Yea, yea…I'll be sure to put an ad in the paper warning the rest of Tulsa," I managed to joke. I just hoped he couldn't see through me, couldn't see how awkward he was making me just by being here.

He smirked slowly and blew smoke in my face. I pushed it away with my face scrunched up dramatically. "Don't think it would matter none, but help yourself." Dally's cold eyes looked me up and down from where he practically towered over me, and I shied back to being a little girl. I almost forgot that he intimidated me thoughtless. "In fact, let's go inside and you can help yourself to all that you want." He couldn't be more suggestive if he tried. When his smirk grew wider I averted my eyes, totally speechless and knowing he succeeded in turning my face a betraying shade of red. Stupid face.

Dally laughed at this and so did Two-Bit, and even Johnny (whose face was also red) chuckled a little. This was horrible. I felt myself getting upset and a part of me wanted to cry, but I held my hormones back long enough to remain cool.

Two-Bit clapped me on the back harder than necessary- he was often senseless to the fact that I'm a girl and he should be easier with me- and laughed. " Now, Dally…Don't go givin' Girlie here any ideas that she's full grown and can mess around like the big girls do. We all know what kind of trouble she can cause." He winked at me, referring to Tim, and I wanted to hit him. When he smiled at me, though, I had to smile back. He and Soda just had that ability.

"I'm sixteen."

"So?"

"So that's only two years younger than you, stupid!"

"Oh…," He said, absolutely clueless. "When'd that happen?"

"Over a month ago." I rolled my eyes good-naturedly.

"You were there, man. She had a party 'n everything." Johnny piped in. He looked far too amused at the whole situation, but he looked happy. And happy looks good on him.

"He was probably too drunk to remember, like _that's_ a shocker." Johnny and I broke into a laugh, Dallas merely shook his head, and Two-Bit was trying keep his face locked in an indignant expression.

"Hey, now! I didn't ask to be picked on like this."

"You didn't need to ask, dumbass," Dally said slyly. "You're just so naturally stupid that opportunities keep poppin' up to say shit about ya. The way I look at it is you deserve it."

I snickered at the cheesy grin on Two-Bit's face as he said, "Aw… I love you, too, Dal!" Dallas let out a string of friendly curses as Two-Bit continued. " You know what we should do?"

"I'm kinda afraid to ask," Johnny whispered as Two-Bit flung his heavy arms over his and Dally's shoulders. Dally shrugged him off, but Two-Bit didn't notice. If he had he never showed it, or never cared.

Two-Bit ruffled Johnny's hair. "Don't be that way, kid. I was gonna say that we should celebrate our good friend Dallas and his new found freedom."

"For however long it lasts?" I kidded, looking at Dallas from the corner of my eye. He scowled at me, looking as mean as ever. I bit my lip and muttered a 'sorry' before looking back at Two-Bit. It scares me just how scary Dally can be, I thought, even if he is my friend and looks out for me. And I _still _slept with him. " I ain't fixin' to get in any kind of trouble tonight. Darry'll skin me."

"Who said anything 'bout trouble? Look, all I'm sayin' is lunch and a movie." Knowing Two-Bit, there was probably some form of alcohol going to be included. I didn't care how innocent he tried to look, I just knew him too well.

"Yea, sure. I'm down for anything other than sittin' around all day. I gotta enough that in jail, man," said Dally. "What about it, Johnnycakes? Girlie, you comin'?"

I saw Johnny nod, so I answered for both of us. He doesn't like to speak unless he has to. "Me and Johnny'll go."

"Alright!" Two-Bit clapped his hands then turned to walk to the gate. "Welp, I guess I'll see you kids later!"

I stopped him as he was getting his car keys out of his pocket. One of these days he's going to kill himself drinking and driving. "Where are you goin'? Ain't you coming with us?"

"Nup. I'm headin' home for awhile."

"It was your idea, genius." Dallas said from beside me. When did he get there?

"Yea, I know." Two-Bit started his car and rolled down his window to yell, "My momma will have a heart attack if I don't show up soon. Haven't been home in a couple of days. I'm plannin' on gettin' boozed up, though, Buck's havin' quarter pitcher night. But if I don't get too drunk I'll come a by little later and join ya'll."

"Don't bother, man. I'll be there tonight. The movies can wait 'til tomorrow." Dallas lit up another cigarette and looked at Johnny and me. "That cool with you?"

"Sure." Johnny said.

I didn't really want to go to the movies tonight, anyways. "That's fine. I gotta work from 10 to 6, though."

Dallas nodded. "Whatever. We'll just meet you there then."

Two-Bit's car grumbled as it rolled down the street and to his house. He drove like a maniac. "Cool enough," I said.

"Come on, you two. I'm starvin' and there's a burger at the Dingo with my name all over it." Dallas started walking, and, of course, we followed him. I didn't tell Dally that I was sick of taking the same walk to work everyday and would rather go somewhere else, if merely for the change of scenery. He was in a surprisingly good mood and I'm not going to be the one who ruins it. Besides, I've been craving one of Dottie's cherry-chocolate milkshakes, anyways. "So, uh, I didn't know you were workin' now, Girlie."

"Darry finally let me. We're headin' there now, actually."

"The Dingo?"

"Uh-uh. Waitressin' over a month, now." I was fighting to keep my voice steady. Life was getting too surreal at the moment, like I wasn't actually living it but reading about it as if someone else was going through this nightmare.

"Hey, Girlie," Johnny said, walking between us. "Don't you get a discount or somethin'?" He sounded concerned.

I had forgotten about that. Johnny had his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet as we continued on. I wondered if he had any money, if that was what he was worried about. "50%," I answered, smiling at him. "That means I'm buyin'."

Johnny nodded, and as he smiled in gratitude my heart soared, as cheesy as it sounds. I watched as dark pieces of greasy hair fell over his tanned face. This is what I love, I thought, making Johnny happy, helping him feel like he belonged and was loved by us. He wasn't a burden, not by a long shot, and I took every opportunity that presented itself to make sure he understood that.

Dally and Johnny had slowed their pace without realizing it. They were talking, catching up, but I stayed quiet. I didn't even know what they were talking about and I didn't really care; I was just grateful that I didn't have to say anything. My thoughts were everywhere and all over the place, but I took some comfort in how familiar this was. Walking and goofing off like the old days. I felt my face sag into a frown when I realized how they could act the way they were. As far as they knew, nothing was out of place, everything was normal. They didn't know everything. I did, though, and I felt like a liar. It just felt wrong acting like everything was the same, when I knew very well that it wasn't. If they knew what I did they most certainly wouldn't be carrying on the way they were. If Johnny knew, he would either be holding my hand or possibly hiding from me. If Dally knew…well, if he knew he would undoubtedly scream at me then go get drunk and do something to get himself hauled in, again. No. I knew how things should really be right now, and how they should be terrifies me something awful.

We passed by the DX and tried to talk Soda and Steve into going to the Dingo with us. Sodapop wiped off his hands with a rag that only made his hands even dirtier. "Nah, we can't go. Wish we could, though. Man, is it hot out here! I'd kill for a 'shake ."

"Why not?" I whined. Soda being there with us would make today so much better. He is my favorite person, after all.

Steve threw the bottle of Coke he was drinking in the trash, it shattered and I could imagine what the pieces looked like. Sharp and pointed, like the way he was unnecessarily glaring at me. "Look around ya, twerp. We're busy today. It would be impossible to get a early break." He smirked. It was so frustratingly rude and cocky that I almost picked up the end of that broken pop bottle and sliced his face with it. I'm feeling crazy enough lately to do it, too. "Darry's right. You really can't use your head, can ya?"

"Fuck you, Steve!"

"Ponygirl!" Soda was looking at me with a shocked expression, everyone was. Especially Steve. Johnny's eyes had gone wide and Dally was grinning. It's not like me to cuss, not at all. I just don't do it. I'm kind of like Soda that way. But I couldn't stand it any more! Not myself, not this mess I've gotten myself into, not Dallas, and definitely not Steve Randle! I've had all I could stand of him and I'm not going to put up with his crap any longer. I've done nothing to him, never, and it's time he starts showing me some respect. He was unknowingly throwing the mistakes I've made during the last few months in my face, and I had reached my boiling point.

"No, Soda!" I shouted. "I've had as much of you, _Randle_, that I can stand in one lifetime!" I shoved him, hard enough that he stumbled back, out of shock more than anything. I couldn't tell you what got into me, but lately I haven't been able to control myself. And there's things that I've been wanting to get out in the open for a while now. "You've treated me like shit my whole life. If ya ain't noticed, you are only a year older than me. I'm not some kid, some tag along, and I have the right to be near my brother any damn time I want!"

Steve was getting embarrassed that I was causing such a scene. It doesn't look real tuff when a girl tells you off in front of everybody. "Listen here-"

I grabbed the finger he wagged in front of me and shoved it back in his face. "I don't wanna listen to you, Steve. I hate the sound of your voice! Yer like a screeching bobcat. I ain't never done anything to you but _tolerate _you, and that was for Sodapop's sake." I threw up my hands, shrugging like nothing mattered. "But ya know what? I just can't find it within' myself to care anymore. From now on I'm treatin' you the way I feel like treatin' you. I don't give a flying fuck what Soda feels about it!"

I turned on my heel and started to storm off in the direction of the Dingo, ignoring Soda's pleading with me to come back and Dally's laughter. I was still mad, so mad that I didn't care who I yelled at, including Dallas. "If you two are gettin' something to eat I suggest you hurry." I called out from over my shoulder, still walking away from them. "I ain't waitin' on ya and you need me if you want that discount!"

"Watch your mouth, girl!" Dally threatened, but he was beside me in an instant, Johnny right behind him.

"Don't you tell me what to do!" I snapped.

My anger flickered to almost nonexistent when he grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. Dallas' eyes amazed and frightened me. I remembered the last time I was this close to him, it was under entirely different circumstances, and I'm sure he was wanting to do something other to me than yell in my face. "What did you say to me?"

Boy, was he dangerous. If I didn't know Dallas so well, I could've sworn he was going to hit me. But, I knew he would never do that. Still, I gulped and stuttered, "S-sorry, Dal." I looked down to the ground and concentrated on his cowboy boots, I couldn't see my own feet anymore.

"Wise ass." He muttered. I could feel his breath on my cheek and his hand digging into the muscle of my arm. Why hasn't he let go of me? I made the mistake of looking back up, and the first thing I saw was his lips. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. I was too busy watching his mouth move. It was such a dark pink, kind of rosy. I'd never noticed before. I bit my lip, remembering when I sucked on his bottom one. If I had obeyed my hormones, at that moment, Dallas would have had one heck of a kiss laid on him.

_Why? Why did I have to sleep with someone that I'd have to see all the time? And why did he have to be so freakin' sexy? It's my fault…I knew I thought Dal had certain, um, attributes that I found…fascinating. _

"Yea, he's right, Girlie." Johnny's voice made my eyes go wide. Dang! How'd I forget about him?

"Okay." I blinked stupidly, then quickly shook my head. "Wait…What'd he say?" Something else I couldn't control, wanting to have sex that is. A couple of weeks ago, I'd stolen a book on pregnancy at the local bookstore. Some things in it scared me, some made me laugh, some made me embarrassed, others made me want to throw up, and some things I didn't believe. Take for instance, being horny. That book said that around the fifth month of pregnancy, your hormones would basically start going crazy. One minute you'd want to scream at everyone, the next you'd start crying. Another minute you'd rip anyone's head off that wanted to touch you, then the next you'd want to jump their bones so hard they'd break. I didn't believe it; now, however, I'm standing by it as my number one excuse.

By the way Dally was smirking at me, I had a gut-wrenching feeling he'd caught me starring. "I said, _Girlie_." Wow. "That if Steve so much as looks at you the wrong way, I'd rip him a new one. Got it? I meant what I said. No one's gonna bother you and Johnnycakes anymore. I don't care if it's a buddy or a stranger. "

I wanted to say, "No. I can take care of it myself." But I didn't say that. I was irrationally emotional and angry right now, true, but I was in no way stupid. My head bobbed up and down in the affirmative. "Sorry."

"Geez…" Dallas sighed. His eyes rolled and he shook his head. He looked exasperated. "Kid, you have gotta stop doin' that."

"What are you talkin' bout?"

"This whole "I'm sorry" business. You've said it at least three times in the last hour. You're startin' to bug me, so cut it out."

"I…" Before I could get the word sorry out of my mouth, Dallas shot me an annoyed look. There are three goals I try to stick to: Keep Darry happy, avoid the Soc's, and never, not by any means, have Dally's anger directed at me. I decided on a different route of thinking. "I…just…don't know what's gotten into me. I've been snapin' at everyone lately."

"Whatever. Just knock it off."

"Fine. But, uh…" I glanced down to where his large hand circled my arm. "You're kinda hurting me, Dal."

Dally let go of me so quick I thought I'd burned him. He ran a hand through his hair and lit another cigarette. "Come on, Johnny. Let's lead the princess to her castle."

"Sure, man." Johnny laughed. I loved it when he laughed. He hardly does it anymore, not since he got jumped a few months back. I hurried to catch up with them. When I linked my arm through Johnny's, he looked up with wide black eyes. "I thought you were mad at me or somethin'." His voice was barely a whisper, but I heard him.

"No. You ain't done nothin'. You're always thinking that and I'd wished you'd stop it." Pause. " But…there's something you gotta know."

If my arm wasn't linked with his he would've stopped walking. "What about?"

"I don't wanna tell you here. Soon, I promise."

"Is this what you were gonna tell me on your birthday?"

Dallas interrupted by merging between us. When he threw his arms over both of our shoulders, I could smell the soap he used from his shower that morning. Soap, cigarettes, and leather. Great, I thought, now I have his taste, his face, and his smell memorized. "Well, so sorry to interrupt the love birds, but, uh…you's two wouldn't be talkin' bout me, would ya?"

"Come on, Dal. You know we were. Yer just too dang interestin' not to."

"Damn straight." Dally said with a smirk- a smirk that was actually a smile, one he saved whenever Johnny decided to open up and play a little-while holding Johnny in a headlock. It was rare that Johnny got sassy like that.

"Ow, man!"

"Say uncle!"

"Come on!" Johnny struggled unsuccessfully to get free. I laughed as I watched them goof off together. It was times like this that you could almost forget that Johnny was beat at home and Dallas was a hood and that I was a pregnant teen _by_ the hood. Almost being the key word. "Alright, alright! I give, okay. You win! Would ya let me go now?"

"Well, since we are here an' everything, I guess I'll have to." Dally let go of him and popped his collar before strutting into The Dingo. I swear, he could walk through any door and make it look like he owned the place.

Johnny and I followed Dallas inside. He was sitting at a booth in the back tormenting Molly. Molly was a pretty brunette waitress. She was taller than me, but not by much, and built even smaller than I was. She's been working here a few months longer than me. Even though she's about five years my senior, we hit it off pretty quickly and she's become a good friend and confidant. Molly is someone you shouldn't judge too quickly. Sure, she's soft spoken, but she has a short fuse and isn't afraid to unleash her opinion on anybody. And, boy, is she opinionated. She's the only person who knows I'm pregnant. I didn't tell her, she just…found out. She had walked in on me changing last week and saw my bump. I spilled everything to her and she's helped me out a lot. With a kid of her own, I can afford her advice. Also, with her knowing, with _someone _knowing, I wasn't so alone anymore.

"If you don't stop shootin' straw paper at me, I'm gonna throw you out myself!"

I jumped in before Dallas could say anything back to her, knowing he wouldn't leave without the cops escorting him out. "Dally! You ready to order?"

Molly placed her hand on a cocked hip, looking somewhat surprised. "Yer here with this idiot?"

With a nervous chuckle, I said, "Uh, yea. He's my buddy." I took a deep breath before introducing him, knowing she'll remember his name. "This is Dallas Winston."

As expected, she remembered. Her blue eyes grew round. "Him?" She hissed. "Oh, Girlie…"

"And this is Johnny Cade."

Molly was annoyed that I cut her off, but I could tell she was glad I stopped her from elaborating whatever she was going to say. She gave me that look, the one that said 'we're talking about this later' and left no room for discussion. Finally, she smiled and extended a hand to Johnny. "Hi, there. It's nice to meet ya. Girlie goes on and on about ya all the time!"

I saw Johnny's face get darker, and could feel mine become a little heated as well. "Hey."

"What? Don't I get a handshake?"

Molly glared at Dallas before looking back at me. I think she blamed him for everything; if only it were that simple. "I guess I'll see ya tomorrow. And don't think I'm gonna let you off the hook!"

"See ya." I muttered.

I sat in the worn, red circle booth, scooting closer to Dally to make room for Johnny. Dallas was starring at me. "What was that about, huh?"

"Not sure. Guess I'll find out tomorrow." I tried to shrug, but it came off feeling uncomfortable. I'm sure I looked every bit as awkward as I felt.

There were only two other waitresses working today and they were swamped, so Molly ended up seeing more of me that day then she had thought. We had no time for chit-chat because she was awfully busy herself. She quickly took our orders, throwing angry glances at Dally the whole time, which caused him to glare at me. He was smart and so he knew I was hiding something, and Dallas hated not knowing things, especially when they involved him. I guess if I had to spend my life guessing how other people were going to treat me everyday, I would be the same.

Johnny and Dallas had ordered more food than I could eat in three days. I watched Johnny scarf down his second cheeseburger and third order of fries, and wondered how such a small guy could eat so much. Dallas I could understand. Standing at 6'1, he wasn't exactly a little fella. Dally had lost some weight and I knew that had to do with his most recent time in jail.

"I bet you're pretty sick of prison food, huh, Dally?"

He licked his fingers clean of barbeque sauce. "No kiddin'."

I tried to imagine what it must be like in a place like that but my mind was completely empty of such things. I kept conjuring up images of dank and musty hallways and cells, places that I read about in my novels. They were mixed with stories that I'd heard from some of the guys I knew, the guys that had the experience first hand, and so the thoughts in my head weren't clear at all. I didn't know what to picture. None of those guys had spend hard time like Dally, though, and none of them had been there quite so many times. I can't imagine why he'd keep pulling stunts like he did to wind himself back there, but I knew Dallas was of the sort to never stop. Not unless something happened to stop him.

"Dallas…" I started, too curious for my own good. "What's it like?"

He stopped inhaling his third sloppy-joe. It's not often that Dally hesitates, and I was scared that I had crossed some invisible line with him; he had quite a few of them. "What's what like? Jail?"

I nodded slowly, not really expecting him to give me a straight answer. Johnny was quieter than usual. He was just as interested as I was. We had often stayed up late, just talking like we always do. The topic of "what is Dally doin' now?", while he was actually in the cooler, rose up more often than a person would think.

Dally's eyes got serious. Not the kind of serious that they have when he's planning something or about to fight somebody, the kind saturated with anger and hate and everything else I never thought about him living with. This was a different type of serious. He means whatever he's going to say and he wants us to realize it, to understand it from him so we won't have to understand it for ourselves. He pointed those eyes at me. "What it's like, Ponygirl, is a place I never want you and Johnny to go. It's like me…and it'll make you like me. Ya don't want that. Do ya understand, kid?"

"Yea, Dal. I get it." It took awhile to shove that sentence out of my mouth. Hearing Dally talk like he cared about something other than a fight was a practically nonexistent occurrence. In a lame attempt to lighten Dally's mood, I grinned and said, "What's so wrong with bein' like you?"

He half-smiled. "Well, ya wanna be liked, dontcha?" I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

Not really thinking about it, I responded with, "I like you."

"No you don't!" He shook his head, laughing. I couldn't tell you how relieved I was that he was still in his good mood. "Well…" He grinned. "I guess you'd have to like me just a little bit, huh?"

As per usual, Dallas was being Dallas and found another chance to talk dirty, even if everyone else was clueless when he was doing it. I honestly believe that he couldn't help making people uncomfortable. I felt a hot blush spreading across my cheeks and down my neck. Not so normal, I told him the truth. "I guess so."

Dally's eyes didn't widen, he was too cool for that. But his eyebrow rose in a silent surprised question. He couldn't believe I had just said that, and I couldn't believe that was the way I actually felt. For so long I haven't liked Dally. After everything that's happened, I've had time to think, realizing that it wasn't that I never liked him, I was just always too scared of him to actually think about him as the liking type. I knew he could never care about anyone else, so why bother? But he does care, doesn't he? About Johnny. About the gang. About me. Why would he consider us friends? He has to care. After all, there's things about Dallas that he refuses to share, his feelings being one of them. He fights harder than anyone else I've ever known to remain cool, unaffected, to keep his reputation in tact. It shows weakness to people who would probably kill him if he didn't, and kill those he cares about. I know he's probably risked more than he liked with Johnny and me. Who knows what actually goes on in that crazy head of his? I was too scared to find out, so then why does a large part of me want to know? I wonder if having a kid would kill him?

My straw started sucking in air, making those annoyingly funny slurping sounds. I was having an inner debate on whether or not to get another cherry-chocolate milkshake. I shook the cup a little, willing more ice cream to magically appear, and when it didn't I got up. Dottie was standing behind the register her fake smile changing into a sincere one when she saw me.

"I thought I told you to stay clear of this place today! I meant it when I said you were too young to be workin' so much."

"I know, I know. But me and my friends are out celebratin' today and everybody knows you're the greatest."

She rolled her dark-green eyes. "Uh-huh. Suckin' up to the boss won't get ya a raise, ya know?"

I laughed. "That wasn't what I was doin, at all! They insisted on comin' here cause it's the truth."

"Oh, so they found out about the discount ya mean."

It wasn't a question, and that's what made it so funny. "That too."

"What did ya need, hun?"

I shook my empty cup. "Refill, if you'd please."

"Cherry-chocolate." I didn't answer, but she knew it was what I wanted. I watched her make it and was upset that she couldn't make it faster. "I swear…you could have an unlimited supply of these things and it still wouldn't be enough for ya. You inhale these things like a pregnant woman!"

I didn't know what to say, and when she looked me up and down I didn't know how to breathe, either. "Girlie, I don't mean to pry…" She placed her hand over mine, the warmth of it melting into my skin. "But I've been…noticing some _changes_ in you since you first started workin' here. I just want you to know that I'll be happy to lend an ear anytime you wanna talk." I starred at her. "No questions and no judging. Promise."

She handed me my shake and motioned for me to leave. "Shew, now! Go have fun with your friends while ya can."

_She knows! _My brain shouted.

I didn't dwell on it, because at that moment Angela and her girls walked in. I haven't had a decent conversation with her since she found out about Tim. Not because I made-out with her brother, mind you, but because she was mad when I hadn't told her, or invited her to come along. It was all she wanted to talk about, and the last thing I wanted to remember. She was one of my best friends, but when summer started I didn't have time for anything other than work. Now, it's just awkward to be around her. Apart of me is bold enough to admit I didn't know how much I trusted her, not anymore.

Her dark blue eyes found me as I sat my shake on our table, and I excused myself to the bathroom as quickly as I could. I found the single bathroom to be unlocked, but before I could close it, a well manicured hand stopped me.

Angela stepped in the cramped space and locked the door behind her. "What is your deal?"

Well, if anything, she's to the point. "I don't know what you're talking about, Angel." I said, using her nickname as if to prove my innocence.

"_I don't know what you're talking about," _She mimicked in a high-pitched voice. Her curvy hip was slanted, her hand placed there in a fit of girly attitude. "Ya know what I'm talkin' about, Ponygirl Curtis. You've been avoiding me like I was a cop or somethin' for months! I wanna know what the deal is."

"I've just been workin' a lot, is all. Ain't nothing personal, I swear."

"So, what? You're fingers broke or somethin'? Ya couldn't have picked up a phone?"

Oh, boy, I thought. Here comes my own attitude. "Like you're any better. The phone line works two-ways, ya know!"

"Listen…" She sighed and ran a hand over her face. Angela was still as pretty as ever while I was fat cow. "I didn't come in here to fight with ya, alright."

"What did you come in here for, then?"

"Well, before you started actin' like a complete bitch, I was gonna tell ya that if I did anything that I was sorry!"

She was mad, and I felt guilty. I'll admit it and say that at first I blamed her for everything- it was her constant persuading that had me convinced I needed to have sex, anyways. "It ain't nothing you've done." I lied, because I felt she _had_ done something.

"Good." She smiled and I couldn't help but think of Tim. All the Shepards have the same smile. "Then let's just go back to normal, okay? I want my friend back, my _real_ friend. I miss us."

I nodded, feeling awkward and reluctant, but smiling over her words. Normal sounds nice. "Yea, okay."

Angela held open her arms and stepped towards me. I was pressed against her before I could take a step away from her. It was too late. "Oh, shit!" I froze. She held me at arms length. "I didn't believe 'em until now, I swear. But…oh, shit."

"What?" I whispered.

"Nothin' serious." She shook her head, her springy girls bouncing around her shoulders. Her eyes, however, were wide in astonishment, or maybe, realization? "Or…I thought not."

"Angel, what…are…you…talking about?" I said slowly and steadily, my voice dangerously close to screaming.

"There was these…rumors." I didn't care enough to correct her grammar. She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out the side of her mouth. "About you and Dally." A tremor ran down my spin. "They started a few months ago, when it happened. They stopped until here recently, until they started saying that…ya know."

She waved her hand in the air, but all I could look at was the smoke gathering around her. I was becoming scared, so scared I was going to throw-up. But it was going to come out mad, I can feel it. My brain was borderline hysterical.

"That what?" I snapped.

"Don't play the idiot!" She growled. "And don't tip-toe around the truth by hollerin' at me. Pregnant or not, I'll kick your ass."

"Why would you say that? And who the hell did you here it from?"

She started to lift up my shirt but I slapped her hand away. "That's one reason."

"What?"

"Is that all you can do, huh? Ask fuckin' questions?" Angela was upset and hurt, but I saw sympathy in her eyes. A sympathy I did not want. "It ain't like you can hide it forever, Girlie. Yer gettin' bigger and more distant. People are noticing at it's makin' them talk." She put her hand on my belly, this time I didn't stop her. She was the first person to do so.

"Don't say anything." I whispered. Tear after tear slid down my cheeks, and I didn't even have to blink to get them to fall. I was shaking so bad my back hurt.

"You…you haven't told anybody, have ya?"

I shook my head. "It's gonna stay that way." My face felt so hot and my breathing was so labored that it burned. I stepped behind Angela to rest my head on the door, trying to cool down and wishing the bright pink metal would absorb me. Anything to escape.

"Girlie, yer gonna have to tell your brothers."

"I can't."

"You have t-"

"I said I can't!" I turned back around, but didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to see her. "Who's been saying stuff?"

"I couldn't tell ya who all knows, if that's what you're askin'. Like I said, it's just a rumor. But I can tell ya that it's mostly the girls around here."

"You mean the girls you hang around with?" It was accusing, I know.

"I haven't said anything, so don't even start blamin' me!"

I cracked for the second time that day. "It's all your fault!"

A bitter laugh escaped her bright red lips. "I just can't wait to hear this…"

"For the passed two years of my life you and your little horde of _skanks_ have been pushing what I should and should not do down my throat!" She threatened me at that point, but I ignored her. "All I've heard is _"You need to have sex"… "It's what we all do"… "You ain't nothing 'til you prove yourself!" _You wanna know what I proved, huh? I proved nothing! Nothing but what happens when you care too much about what other people thought and not enough about yourself."

Her eyes were set in a glare so cold that they would have frozen anyone else. Not me. I wasn't scared of her, not now, not ever. What I was going through was scary. What could happen to me was scary. Angela…she was just a little girl.

"Nice job on blamin' other people for your mistakes. But it ain't like I was forcing you upstairs."

"Might as well have been."

"Oh, shut up!" Her high-heel made a loud smack echo through the room. "You honestly can't believe that you could do something like makin' out with _Tim_ and goin' upstairs with _Dallas Winston _without people talking. Think about it, would ya! They are the biggest bad-asses in Tulsa, Girlie, people are gonna remember that. And you know what?" She started. "They _did _remember, Girlie! And when you started gettin' bigger and pissy and avoidin' people only a few short months after, well, they _still_ remembered!"

She crossed her arms over her breasts, looking at me like I was an idiot. It mad me livid that I actually felt like an idiot. I was going to slap her face off if she kept looking at me like that. "It ain't like it takes a genius to connect the dots. Besides…girls can always tell this sorta thing about other girls."

"Right." I scoffed. "Of fucking course."

"What are you goin' on about, now?"

I glared at her, and I took small joy in seeing her back down a little. "That's the real reason you came in here, isn't it? You wanted to see for yourself, huh? Wanted to know if it was all true!"

Tears were streaming down my face again. I felt like I was trapped in hell. I had no control over myself; my tears wouldn't stop, my voice was getting louder, and my temper was on the verge of causing me to explode and beating someone to death. I had this fear placed on me, one I was expecting, but I was hoping I had skipped down by then. People were starting to talk about me and I had no idea about it, and Angel was just making me feel worse. Like I was being betrayed. I was so confused, I didn't know if I actually believed all these things or not.

"It ain't like that!"

"Sure it ain't." I hissed. " I don't know why I bothered, askin' you to not tell anybody. You could never keep your damn mouth shut!"

"Girlie…" She began, looking pained, like I had just accused her of all my problems, of being a horrible friend. I didn't stop, though.

"I'm sure all of Okalahoma will know come tomorrow." I turned to leave. "Just leave me alone."

I'm sure I looked crazy running to the table Dally and Johnny were sitting in with tears rolling down my face, black from my mascara smeared everywhere. "We're leaving." I didn't wait for them to answer, but continued to run until I was out the door. I couldn't be here anymore, not around these people. They looked at me like they knew all along, like me rushing out the way I was confirmed it.

"What's the matter with ya?" Asked Dally. He and Johnny were after me quicker than I thought possible.

"Hold up!" Yelled Johnny.

I didn't stop until I was half-way down the street, where I could still hear Angela's voice screaming at me. "Fuck you, Ponygirl!"

Things are about to get bad.

* * *

_Again, sorry for anything that sucks: grammar, spelling, etc._

_A few more things: _

_-I would like to point out that Girlie's thoughts and emotions are everywhere right now, making her act out a little and get upset/ hurt easier. She isn't OC. Or a lusty bitch._

_-Okay, she loves Johnny. This is a fact. But that doesn't mean she can't wonder about other guys. She is obviously attracted to Tim, and Dally IS the father of her baby, so of course she gonna have thoughts about him. I'll give you a little hint on the situation… She is definitely confused about Dal. Help? No? haha_

Thanks for reading! If you like, PLEASE review :) They encourage faster writing!


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks again to everyone who faved and reviewed! I seriously love you guys :] You don't know how much it means to a writer to have someone like what you've done. Although, I'm not sure how much I deserve it, considering I don't really do my best on ff, especially at the end of a chapter. _

Okay, so… I know that I've promised you guys for awhile now that I would be starting to enter the book verse, well…I hope you noticed some of the similarities in the previous chapter and in this one. The events of the book wont pan out exactly the same in my fic, but what matters most will.

**A/N: **This chapter was really fun to write! I hope guys feel the same while reading. I tried to make it sound like it was from the POV of a sixteen-year-old, so hopefully that's how it comes off. I wrote this chapter hoping to bring a little fun and light-heartedness to the story, a break from all of the serious stuff that's been going on. It'll be needed; this story is JUST getting started, and the real drama will surface soon.

-Oh! And I would just like to point out that every pregnancy is different. I wrote Girlie's pregnancy based on personal experience. Not a lot of teenage girls show as much as someone who was, say, in their twenties. Also, she is very petite, small framed, and is one of those who is less likely to get very big, especially for her first pregnancy.

_Once again, excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes, and please…enjoy and review! :]_

* * *

**Chapter 7~**

By the time I had stopped running I was so nauseous that I had to sit on the edge of the sidewalk to keep myself from throwing-up. I held my head between my knees, wishing I was somewhere else…anywhere else. I really hated this. I hated how I was so afraid all of the time. Maybe telling my brothers was the best thing to do-everything would be out in the open, all of it, and we could find a way to deal and move on. Why can't I let myself do that?

I hated how complicated I could be sometimes. Maybe I really do read too much.

My lungs were still burning by the time Johnny and Dally spotted me, and my ears were ringing, so I couldn't say anything to them or hear what they had to say to me even if I wanted to. Not that I wanted to, so I guess that wasn't really a problem. Someone sat down beside me and put an arm around my shoulders. I didn't even need to guess who it was. I leaned into him, so glad that I had him, and so glad since everything's happened that this world was real, simply because he was in it.

And he _was_ real, as real to me as air, and just as easily needed.

"You alright, Ponygirl?"

"Sure." I took a deep breath. My lungs didn't hurt anymore, but I had a steady ached pulsing down my side. "I'm okay, Johnny."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm fine, really."

I turned my head to stare him in the eyes, urging him to believe my lie. He usually backed down whenever I did that. Johnny's eyes never left mine, though. He simply shook his head. "That was some scene you made back there, and you've never been one to make scenes. You hate attention like that. What's goin' on, Girlie?"

"What's got into you, huh?" I never thought I would be grateful to hear Dally's angry voice, but Johnny was boring me down with those black-puppy dog eyes of his and I was very close to telling him what he wanted.

"Chasin' your crazy ass half-way down town ain't exactly something I enjoy. Did you even realize those two jocks were over there gettin' ready to jump on you?"

Two Soc's, both wearing Varsity Jackets, were leaning against a wall on the other side of the street. They looked anxious and pissed, upset about something. An unwanted wave of recognition hit me, sending pinpricks down my spine; for some reason they looked familiar, I just couldn't place where I've seen them before. To answer Dally's question, "No. I…I had no idea they were there."

Dallas stomped on his cigarette, and somehow he even made _that _look angry. He pointed his finger in my face. "You had better wise up, Girlie. I mean it. You can't just go runnin' off any damn time you want, especially when you're upset about somethin'. When you're distracted you get killed, or haven't you learned that yet?" He bent down to meet me at eyelevel. "Use your head, huh? Use it before someone hurts you bad enough and you can't use it." That finger he was holding in my face, found itself pushing in the tip of my nose. "One of these days someone is gonna get to ya , Girlie, if ya don't wise up. And when they do I'll kill 'em. Then I'm gonna beat you half-to-death for being so stupid."

He straitened himself back up, holding out his hand and pulling me up when I gave him mine. He didn't let go but jerked me closer to him, causing my flush to rub against his. Dallas had the most intense eyes I've ever seen; you can see everything and nothing in them.

How is it that he can lie so much but still mean everything that he says? Just don't look at his lips, I thought.

"Am I clear?"

"Yes."

"Johnnycakes, that goes for you, too. Got me?"

Johnny nodded. "I get ya, Dal. Don't worry about us, man."

Dallas huffed. "I don't worry about nothin'." But he went on to mumble something under his breath that sounded an awful like 'if I didn't you'd both be dead, dumbass kids'. He turned to look at me suddenly. "If you was so fine then why'd you high-tail it outta there like the devil was chasin' after ya?"

"Nothing." I was suddenly embarrassed. "Just Angel, ya know?"

"What about her?"

"It's Angela Shepard. I thought that explained it all." I shrugged.

Dally smirked. "So the youngest of the Shepard family, the biggest bitch in all of Tulsa, decided she wanted a piece of you?" Dallas was _always_ smirking, it seemed. Smirking or scowling.

"Somethin' like that."

"Don't worry, baby," he said, throwing his arm around me, "you can take her." He nudged Johnny in the ribs. "It's somethin' I'd like to see."

"Why would you wanna see that?" Johnny asked.

"You kiddin'? Two of the best lookin' broads around gettin' it all out?" I couldn't see Dally's face, but that was okay because that means he couldn't see the blush on mine. I knew he was grinning. "Picture it, Johnnycakes…The two of them gettin' dirty, pressing up against each other, and all that wild, wild hair and ripped clothes."

I stepped out from under his arm. "Okay, that's enough of that."

Dally laughed. "Be sure to tell me whenever this thing goes down. I could make a fortune for that show!"

"Stop." The giggle that followed sure did make me sound threatening.

We ended up going to the park for an hour or two, and then we headed to the mall to check out some stores and drink a few cokes. The stores we went into were nothing special and of little interest to us for anything other than wasting time, considering we didn't have any money. Dally had managed to stuff a couple packs of Kools in his jacket before one of the store's managers realized what we were up to and kicked us out. Then we headed to the food court. I felt sorry for the waitress that had brought us our Cokes and fries. I knew how frustrating it was to deal with people all day, and Dally made her day a little bit worse by shooting spit wads at her. He could be such a jackass.

I glanced around, trying to find a clock. There had to be at least one somewhere. I finally found one as we were walking towards the exit. It was 7:34. We had been out since twelve this morning, but I didn't want to go home just yet, even though I was dead tired; I think my pregnancy is really laying a claim on my body. I never used to get tired, not like this, and all I wanted to do was sit down again. My feet were swollen, making my Chucks squeeze around them painfully. It was getting closer and closer to eight o'clock as we walked down the street, and the sky was getting dimmer with the loss of the sun. I wished we lived out in the country, away from all the big towns so I could see the sunset. Maybe that's where I'll go when I leave Tulsa. I stopped when we got close to the movie house; I liked looking at the posters.

"Hey, guys," I said, and they stopped to look at me. "Let's go see a movie."

"Weren't we gonna do that tomorrow?" Johnny asked.

"Oh, I guess I forgot." I didn't forget. I just really didn't want to go home. I'll never admit that I didn't feel comfortable there anymore. "But, it's already gettin' dark, and there's nothing else to do. Come on, we can watch something we've already seen if ya want. I'm just not ready to go home yet."

Dal was attempting to steal a poster with a beach babe on the front by forcing Johnny's switch behind the glass. I don't know why he didn't use his own, I guess he never got his back with the rest of his possessions. He wasn't making much progress. "I ain't payin' to see a movie I've already watched."

"The Nightly Double, then. Just go with me. You can leave whenever ya want, Dal. Buck's don't start gettin' rowdy 'til midnight, anyhow. It's not like you got anything else to do until then."

"I got plenty to do, believe me, none of it legal." He shrugged with one shoulder. "Sure, whatever. It ain't like I couldn't find a date there tonight or somethin'. Might run into Syl at Buck's and I want nothing more than to make the bitch jealous."

I looked at Dally's hand, noticing for the first time that he had on the class ring he rolled a drunken senior to get. Whenever he was going with some girl, she would be the one to wear it. I guess he broke up with Sylvia. Johnny must have noticed, too, cause he said, "I see you've got your crystals back, Dal."

Dally's face turned blank again. "That little broad was two-timin' me again while I was in jail, man." Big surprise there, I thought. Sylvia couldn't be faithful if you paid her. I let go of that thought, though, when I realized she was still Dally's girl when I slept with him all those months ago. I'm no better than she is...Now, _that's_ a depressing thought. He kicked the wall hard, but quickly took control of himself again. "It's cool. Never really liked her, anyways."

"Have you ever liked any of 'em?" Johnny joked, knowing that was the only way to talk to him at the moment, boosting Dally's sex appeal to make Sylvia seem like just another notch on his belt. I felt sick to my stomach knowing that was exactly the way he probably considered me.

"There might have been a one-night-stand or two."

"Really?" Johnny sounded surprised. Dallas didn't like much of anybody.

"Nah." He looked at me then continued walking. "Just one."

Johnny laughed and I forced a chuckle; it was supposed to be funny, what Dally said. Not to me. I knew he was joking, and I was sure he was just teasing me. Either way, whether he was teasing or taking a real stab at me, it hurt.

Why did it hurt?

* * *

Dally took his seat beside me, again. He was ringing wet from the Coke the red-headed girl he was harassing threw in his face. "Serves you right."

"What the hell? I was just gonna have a little fun with the broad! Not like I was tryin' to rape her or somethin'."

"You don't just go around talkin' to girls that way, Dal. Especially girls like her." The girl we were talking about- the 'broad', as Dallas had said- was a cheerleader from my school. Her name was Sherri Valance, but people called her Cherry because of her red hair.

When we had made it to the drive-in, we snuck through a hole in one of the gates like we always do. We had money for tickets, but Dally liked to prove he didn't care whether or not there was a law, and took this as another opportunity to tell the world exactly what he thought of its rules. The place was crowded tonight, more cars here than anywhere else in town, probably because it was the one place Greasers and Socs both frequented when there was nothing to do. Since we didn't have a car we walked to where the movie seats sat on a slanted slab type thing (so people could see in the back, I guess). There were two girls already sitting there, nice Soc looking dames, and sense there was no one else sitting in the seat area, Dally just had to sit behind them. I knew one of the girls, Cherry, but her dark-haired friend was new to me.

It started out bad and had got worse.

Dally has this thing he does, where he just loves to make anyone around him uncomfortable. He teased Cherry and tried to flirt with her, even though she was a Soc. Who would've blamed him, though? She was gorgeous. Her friend, who I now know is Marcia, was cute. But that Cherry was a real looker, the kind of pretty that made me want to rip her perfect red hair out and make her eat it. I didn't need to be a guy to know that she was attractive. She finally got sick of Dally's mouth and told him to get away from her; Dally can have a real awful dirty mouth. Dally did go away, but came back soon after with two arms full of Coke. He handed each of us girls one. Cherry ended up throwing her Coke in his face then running away before Dallas could react. And that's where we are now.

"Yea, well…she was a bitch anyway. Ain't worth the time."

For some reason that pissed me off even more, I was already aggravated at him for flirting with her in the first place. It wasn't just that he was flirting with her. Oh, no. It was the way he would look at me every so often, winking or checking my reaction from every lewd comment. _Why was he doing this to me now? He wasn't like this towards me before he went to jail. _"They never are to you, are they?"

He just smirked, not looking at me, but I could see the hard slant of his eyes. He was so intense. "Never." I believed him. That made me even more upset, but before I could open my mouth and get my face busted for talking back to him, he looked to the other side of me and asked, "Where's Johnny?"

I broke off the stare I had looking at his face, ready to let go of my frustration with him by glancing to my left. Johnny's seat was still empty. "Went to get a Coke." Johnny got out of here as fast as he could when Dallas started hound-dogging Cherry, he was just too embarrassed to stick around. I love that innocence he still carries.

Dally leaned back and propped his feet up in Cherry's now empty chair. He flung his arm around me, but I didn't really mind because he's done that for as long as I can remember. What I did mind was the feeling of his eyes on my face and body. He was staring at me, but I kept my eyes trained on the screen ahead, afraid that if I looked at him I would find that smirk again.

It's ironic…The reason I was so secure with Dallas that night was because he was cold and nothing could thaw him out and that he would be that cold way no matter what happened between us.

Months of not caring and suddenly his coldness is killing me.

I felt his arm bend behind my head, and then his hand moved pieces of hair from around my shoulders and neck. When he spoke, he leaned his head forward, speaking into the skin stretching from my shoulder to my ear. "Come with me tonight…to Buck's." He kissed that skin he was so close to. "We can down a few if ya want, or smoke some, or…" Another kiss, then another, and another. "If ya want, we could…"

His other hand was trailing up my thigh, some new form of body language to complete the suggestion. This wasn't fair, not at all. This was not supposed to be happening, this couldn't be happening. "We can't."

"Oh, really?" His mouth moved higher and I turned my head to meet him, but still didn't kiss him back. Letting him kiss me is just as bad, my brain was screaming. How am I supposed to say 'no' when I knew that a part of me wants him so badly? My stomach was moving, the life he helped create urging me closer. I heard the huff of a man 'tsking' us as he sat in the seat two rows behind us and it caused me to jump away from Dally. "And, uh…why can't we, exactly?"

He leaned in again, but I placed my hand on his shoulder to keep him from coming any closer. The truth was a part of me _did_ want to kiss Dallas and to be with him tonight, and so much more, much more than he was willing or able to give me. But another part, a larger part, wanted Johnny Cade to take Dally's place. When I turned my face away and didn't say anything he said, "I really don't see the big deal. It ain't like it'll be the first time. I kinda made sure of that."

"It was still just that one time, though." This was embarrassing, but I didn't care. He needed to understand that I wasn't ready to have sex yet, even if I wasn't a virgin anymore.

"The _one_ time?" He chuckled, not really amused at all.

"Yea, the _one_ time."

"I can't believe this." He snorted, running a hand over his face. "I really can't fucking believe this."

"What are you talkin' about?" I was confused. He couldn't have found many things unbelievable about me saying any of this, could he? I just didn't understand. I was missing something.

"Are you serious right now? You really don't remember?"

"What?" Now he was just dragging it on, and it was pissing me off.

"The one time, Ponygirl? Really?" Dallas was smirking at me again. I hated that smirk. "I know you were pretty out if it that night, but I didn't think you'd be so out of it that you can't remember all the shit that you did." His smirk grew when I backed off a little in disbelief, shifting away from him to give myself some space. I didn't know exactly what he was talking about, but I had a feeling. "Well, let me enlighten you then by reminding you that it wasn't just the once."

Dreams were running through my mind, dreams of me waking up drunk…. and smoke….and kisses…. and being pressed into a mattress. I thought they were just dreams, but I guess I thought wrong.

"I don't know what to say." Except that I have bigger news for you, my brain finished. "I don't remember that." _Not really_.

"Obviously."

"What, I mean...I mean,yea, what happened?" I finished lamely.

"You passed out after the first time so I went downstairs to pick up a few things. When I came back upstairs you were sitting up against the wall, asked me where I went when you realized I was there." Dally lit a cigarette at this point then started again. "I told you I met with my dealer and your eyes got wide, like a fucking kid at Christmas or something. You helped me break the weed up, I rolled the blunt, and then we smoked it." He was laughing, and I was jealous. I don't care about not remembering the sex, but I loved weed.

"Great."

"Yea, you were still pretty drunk when we started passin', almost passed out a few times. You started gettin' a little spunk back around your third hit, though."

"And then we had sex." It wasn't a question; I was starting to piece it all together now.

"That's right." He leaned into me again. "Look, just…come with me, okay? We can do it all again. My stash is all filled up."

"Don't you think it'll make things weird? I'm not your girlfriend, Dal, and I'm not some random chick. We see each other all the time. We're a part of the same gang. We have the same friends…_we're _friends."

"For the love of God, kid! It's just sex and a little weed."

"Not to me."

"Why? Why do you need to make this complicated?" He said, angry in a way that I've never been. He'll always be angry, he'll never just simply accept things.

"I can't just do that anytime you want, Dallas! I'm not like you. I can't have sex with you all the time and not wind up having feelings for you sooner or later. That's the last thing either of us would want to happen." It's not like I was arguing with him because I thought this night could lead into what Dally hoped it would; I'm pregnant and he can't figure that out. Not tonight, and sure as hell not like that. But, there was something inside of me that craved for him to understand, it was gnawing at me and I wished it would stop, because he could never understand. I don't know why, maybe it was because I'll be leaving in a month and just don't care if he knows this side of me. Maybe it was the simple fact that he was the father of my unborn child.

"That's bullshit. What is it?"

I shook my head. _Why is he doing this to me?_ "No, it really isn't. I don't wanna dig myself into this big ditch with you, Dallas. I don't want to be with you and then have to share you with whoever you decide you want to screw for the night." I took a deep breath before telling him what I've never told anyone, my main concern and only thought other than my baby. "And…Johnny."

One name. All it took was one name for him to remove his arm from around me and back away like I was infected with some sort of social disease. He loved Johnny, too. I know he did, he had to. I took the chance to look at his face. He was pissed, more pissed than I had seen him in a long time. Not at me, though. I knew this type of anger. It twisted your brain and your lungs and your blood, and kept twisting until you were so inverted inside yourself that all you could see was what you've done, all you could feel was shame and regret. You're so twisted, though, that it makes you angry, so incredibly angry at yourself.

"All you had to say was no, Girlie."

True, I thought. I just couldn't help myself.

Dallas and I know Johnny better than anyone. Dallas knows Johnny loves me, too, and in a way, I just revealed that I loved Johnny back. He couldn't hurt him, not again, and I know he feels the same way about me. Somewhere. Dally isn't a bad guy when it comes to Johnny, but I guess, sometimes, he's just as reckless and unthinking as he always is. Dally stood up suddenly, not looking at me but beyond me.

"Johnny, man, listen…I've had enough of this shit. My ass is numb. I'll be back a little later."

"Yea, alright. See ya."

I looked up to see Johnny standing over me, as awkward and beautiful as ever. He didn't stand out much in the night with his tan skin and hair as black as the torn t-shirt he was wearing, but he shone so much brighter than the movie screen to me. He did because I loved him. I loved everything about him and what I didn't love, I could get over and accept, and I needed to be reminded of that to chase away this dark guilt hanging over my head from before Dally left. I hated myself so much for lying to Johnny, for not telling him the truth, but having him here again beside me will have to do until I can gather the courage to tell him everything.

It's not enough.

I was ready to start telling the truth. I would have to be, there isn't much time left to stall. Quite frankly, I'm sick of wasting time. I'm getting nowhere. I chose to love Johnny all those years ago, and now I'm going to do the only thing I can: let him know. Or…at least let him know that I want him, too.

I'm selfish, so selfish because I want him to take Dally's place. Selfish because I could just leave things as they are instead of making them worse when I take off.

Fifteen minutes had passed since Dally left us alone and we were starting to get into the movie. Well, Johnny was, I guess. He had his black eyes on the screen, the only motion coming from his hand as it reached into the bucket on his lap to bring popcorn up to his mouth.

I on the other hand was far too distracted. So much was playing through my head; so much has happened in such a short time that I don't think my brain could process it all. It was so much that it didn't feel real, it didn't feel like anything has actually happened. But I knew that was only because there hasn't been any consequences (other than the obvious one, of course) hit me yet. It was like succeeding with sneaking out of the house without waking your parents up; you think you've got it made and that everything turned out awesome for you, then the next morning you wake up and you're grounded because they knew about it the whole time. They knew all along. I guess my life was still in the part where you've snuck back inside the house, safe in your bed…asleep. The parents are still oblivious, as far as you are concerned.

Sooner or later, though, I'll wake up. And there Darry and Soda will be, waiting.

I was considering asking if Johnny wanted to go back to the concessions to get some more snack food when a deep voice boomed behind us, "You've had it now, Greasers!"

My stomach had dropped down to meet my intestines before I had time to pick it up, to actually register the loud laugh of the drunken idiot behind me. I took a deep breath to calm myself down. My jaw tightened so hard my teeth hurt when I looked over to see Johnny as pale as a ghost, I could almost hear them crack.

I glared at the owner of the voice as he sat behind us. "Good going, idiot." I made a point to look at Johnny as I said it. Two-Bit knew better than to sneak up on Johnny like that.

Two-Bit sat on the edge of his seat to get closer to us, putting his head between mine and Johnny's. He looked sincerely apologetic. "Ah, shit. I'm sorry, kid. Guess I forgot." Judging by the smell of alcohol coming off his breath and the way he slurred his words together, I'm surprised he even remembered who we were.

Johnny finally opened his eyes. "It's alright."

"No it isn't!" I seethed. "Two-Bit, you really need to start using your head." I hated how much I sounded like Darry and Dallas at that moment.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I dig, baby. Just don't kill me." He laughed that ridiculous laugh of his causing Johnny to smile, so I had to forgive him. "Here," Two-Bit said, showing a bottle of cherry-vodka in Johnny's hands. "It'll settle your nerves. You look like you could use it."

"Yea, thanks to you."

"Have some chew, too," Two-Bit said, holding out a brown bag. "It'll grow hair on your chest, make ya a man."

When Johnny just shook his head, Two-Bit retracted his hand with a laugh and leaned back in his own seat. He had his boot-clad foot wedged between me and Johnny, which was almost as annoying as him talking over the voices of the actors.

I kept thinking about the boy sitting beside me. I haven't got to spend that much time with him lately because of work and now focusing on him is all I want to do. He's more interesting to me then the damn movie, anyway. I felt like some invisible clock was counting down above my head. I used to think that it was counting the days until I have to say goodbye, but now I'm not so sure. Now, it seems more…final. I don't know how to describe it, it just scares me. It's like the feeling I had before mom and dad died.

This was my last chance, I thought.

I looked away from him, not brave enough to see his face as I moved my hand that small distance to his. He stilled at the sudden contact but laced his fingers through mine as I urged him to. This was different than the other times we've held hands. You don't just hold hands with someone at the movies unless they were more than a friend; you wanted people to know this certain person was yours. This was a place where boyfriends and girlfriends held hands, not friends. I turned to gauge his reaction, only to find him starring at our interlocked fingers with wide uncertain eyes. He knew the score.

"What is this?" The never ceasing voice behind us asks stupidly. "Ya'll on a date or somethin'?"

I knew Two-Bit was kidding, but I didn't want to play around anymore. "Yes. What's it to you if it is?"

"Is it?" He asks quirking up an eyebrow, clearly not understanding the meaning of "yes".

Johnny was looking at me intently, his eyes nearly hiding behind his bangs. I don't think he wants to play around either. "Is it?" He mimics Two-Bit's question. I was startled he _actually_ asked me that, but then realized I've just been sitting there staring at him and holding his hand, forgetting to answer Two-Bit.

I turned my head back to the screen. "It is."

I heard Two-Bit shift back in his seat once again. There was amusement in his voice. "Imagine that." He didn't say much after that, but he sure does snore awful loud when he's passed out drunk.

Not two minutes had gone by, but I was starting to feel nervous. Me and Johnny have just been sitting here not saying anything with our hands still holding each other's. I was thinking that maybe I had made a mistake when Johnny tugged on my hand to get my attention.

"Girlie…were you…were you serious?"

I didn't really know what to say anymore. I've never really made it this far in my mind. So I just nod. "Yea, ya know if that's what you want." I was giving him a chance to say no. To back out of what I know he wants to happen between us.

He was looking toward the screen but not seeing it. "Yea…" He said, squeezing my hand tighter. "That's what I want." Johnny released a shaky breath, but then he smiled a smile I have never seen before and the world exploded in thousands of tiny fireworks that tingled my body and made my mind simply glow.

It was as I turned my head away to hide my grin, wanting to save it for myself, that my perfect cliché was ruined. I brought my hand to my neck, feeling the guilt taint this moment the way I just realized the Coke that was poured on Dally stuck to my skin. I moved my hand from my neck then replaced it. I was sticky from the kisses he placed on my neck; my lips still tasted a little sweet from the sugar. I had gotten so close to him…

But then Johnny started rubbing his thumb over my knuckles, and everything became alright again.

* * *

_Next chapter is, well…different ;p_

_PLEASE read and review! I would sincerely like your opinions on this about the characters and story and such :) _


	8. Chapter 8

Hello, my lovely minions! :] The reviews I received for the last chapter honestly floored me. I had no idea some of ya'll thought that way! As a special thanks I've decided to update a lot quicker than I usually do (lol). This chapter had its stumbling blocks, but I think it turned out okay. In a lot of ways it was a filler, like in the beginning, but as it goes on towards the end, well…not so much a filler.

_Anyways….I have a couple of questions for ya'll. First, I know what some of you think of Girlie/Johnny, but what is your take on Girlie/Dally? Hmmm? Second, the start of this chapter I'm a little weary about. What do you think about it? _

* * *

**Chapter 8~**

My ankles were killing me. I tried sitting several different ways, but nothing helped. Pressure swelled around my joints painfully and I had to take my shoes off before I felt that I could breathe again. It's funny that discomfort in my ankles could affect my breathing.

I stared at the screen with my arms crossed, wondering when this stupid movie was finally going to end. I was hungry and aching and had an almost uncontrollable urge to scream at the dumb chick on the screen for going upstairs instead of going outside._ I mean, why would you trap yourself in a house with a psychopath like that? Idiot. _Everything was annoying me, and I mean everything. Even the fact that everything was annoying me was, well, annoying.

My stomach growled loudly, so I looked down, surprised to find that I have been unconsciously rubbing my growing belly. I stopped, terrified that someone had recognized Baby Curtis doing something that was so distinctly_ pregnant_. But I couldn't stop the feeling of protection that was bubbling up, spurting from some unknown source inside of me. I marveled at it all. This was the first time I've had any sort of feeling when it came to the baby, other than an all-consuming-fear, of course.

As strange as it is, it was almost like a small taste of what my mother must have felt for me. Love was slowly starting to replace fear. I didn't know what to do, I thought as my thumb traced small shapes over my shirt. This wasn't the way I was used to associating love, this was something else. Something entirely different. Love isn't a feeling, it's a choice, and I'll believe that 'til the day I die. But this unknown source of bubbling I was talking about? I knew there was nothing I could do to change it. This was deeper than any love I've ever known, and I don't even know if love is the right word, because I had no choice but to be gradually taken over by it.

Am I really becoming a mother? Is this what it's like?

My eyes were burning, and I knew that if I didn't gain control over my thoughts soon then I would start crying and probably wouldn't stop for a long while. My thoughts isolated me, and I was starting to feel an all too familiar loneliness creep up. All I wanted was for Johnny to sit beside me and hold my hand, again. I was getting very comfortable with his body close to mine, comfortable sharing his body heat. My stomach rumbled again, though, and I was actually grateful he left. I managed to talk Johnny and Two-Bit into buying me some food from the concessions, and when I told them what I wanted they gave me a look that said very plainly 'aren't you gettin' a little much, there?' I grinned as I thought about it, knowing very well I asked for a lot: Jumbo Bucket Popcorn, nachos, Goobers, Salt&Vinegar chips, and a Large Coke. Yea, I knew it was a lot, but what can I say? I'm hungry. Besides…it's not like I sent them off to pay for it themselves. I gave them a five dollar bill; it was more than enough, so I told them to buy whatever they wanted with the rest.

It wasn't surprising that I could hear Two-Bit coming before I could actually see him; he tends to be on the loud side and he's still pretty soused. I knew he and Johnny were close, and my hands started tugging at my shirt to keep it closed even though I knew it was unnecessary. The part of my mind that had been quiet about my baby all night was for some reason not so quiet anymore. I have never felt more pregnant than I did right now, and I couldn't tell you why. I've been pregnant for almost six months; you'd think I would've felt like this before, but I haven't, not even when I had to exchange my wardrobe for my dead mother's.

_I_ _think…I think that maybe I've just accepted it_.

"Hey, baby! We're back. I know, I know…it must have been horrible spending all that time without us." Two-Bit was walking passed me, exchanging his seat from the row behind us to the one beside me. By this time I had stopped fighting with my shirt and had placed my hands on my lap. "How in this world did you manage without your handsome lover?" He asked as he sat down, handing me my popcorn, Goobers and chips. "Oh, yea…and Johnny, too."

Johnny was taking his own seat as he responded to Two-Bit's teasing. "Haha," was his sarcastic response. "You should consider doin' stand-up sometime. I hear they actually pay people to act stupid, now."

"Very funny, kid, but who's actin'?" Two-Bit wasn't offended, but impressed that Johnny was actually getting sassy and stringing whole sentences together. It wasn't often Johnny got that way; he wasn't known for being the quietest kid in the gang for nothing, after all. Besides that, I don't think Two-Bit could get offended no matter what you did or said to him, it just wasn't who he was. Everything was one big joke to him, and you can never take a joke seriously. The fact that Two-Bit was very noticeably drunk out of all reason probably helped Johnny out with not caring what he said around him.

"Don't worry, Two-Bit. Everyone knows you don't ever _act_ stupid," I said, putting emphasis on the word act.

He ignored my jab, probably because he didn't pick up on it, and continued to talk about something neither me nor Johnny had any interest in while slinging his arm across the back of my seat. It didn't bother me, Two-Bit was harmless, just a friend, and I had gotten over my issues with touching months ago. I guess I had Dally to thank for that.

_Why did everything always come back to Dallas_?

It was like Johnny read my mind. "So I guess Dally went to Buck's, huh, Girlie. Haven't seen him around since the movie started."

"I dunno." I didn't want to talk about Dallas, not at all. What I wanted was to sit here and enjoy what was left of the movie, even if I wasn't really paying attention to it. I reached for Johnny's hand, glad that he took mine without any surprise this time, like it was the most natural thing in the world. In a way, it was. "I suppose he did. That's where he said he would be headin' off to. I wonder if he ever found that date he was after, or maybe he ran into Sylvia? Ya know it'll just be a matter of time before they're back together. Same as it always is."

Johnny shook his head. "I don't think so. He seemed, I dunno, different this time. I think he's done with her."

"Maybe she's done with him. Not that I could blame her. I could believe it, I mean, what with all the crap Dally's always pullin'. She ain't no prize, but Dallas sure ain't gonna be winning any boyfriend of the year awards anytime soon." It was almost hard to believe how hateful I sounded. Almost.

"Well, no. I guess he won't be. But he's still our friend."

"He's an asshole."

Johnny looked entirely uncertain. "Come on, now, Girlie. Ya know he's a cool ole' guy once you-"

"No he's not, Johnny! I honestly don't understand how you could like him so much. He's not who you think he is."

He didn't say anything else, just looked away. I couldn't begin to tell you how horrible I felt. Here Johnny was, just trying to be a good friend by talking some sense into my hormone controlled brain, and I couldn't do anything but snap at him and tell him how stupid he was for considering Dally his hero.

"Geez, Johnnycake," I started, pressing myself closer to him, nearly sitting in his lap to achieve my goal. "I'm sorry, I really am. I've just been crazy lately. I didn't mean it."

"It's okay," He said, and I knew he meant it. Judging by the blush on his cheeks from how close we had gotten he had probably forgotten it already.

I tilted my face to kiss him on the cheek. "Good," I said, then smiled as I snuggled my head in the crook of his neck. He was uncertain of what to do; I could tell by the way he stopped brushing my knuckles with his thumb. My smile only grew when he rested his head on mine.

"I'm pretty sure Dally ain't headin' over to Buck's tonight," Two-Bit said, his voice seemed far away. I had almost forgotten he was there. Normally, I would've been embarrassed to be caught close to a boy the way I was, especially by Two-Bit, but Johnny wasn't just some boy and I've wanted to be this way with him for longer than I had realized. I wouldn't be moving anytime soon, I didn't care if me and Johnny had an audience. What he had said surprised me, though.

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "Fire."

"What?" At _that _I moved away from Johnny.

"Buck got too drunk. Set his bar on fire." That's shocking, I thought sarcastically. Two-Bit started laughing. "You shoulda seen it, kids! I don't think I've ever heard one man cuss as much as he did at that moment."

"What's gonna happen to him? The place, I mean," Johnny asked.

"Shoot, kid. The place ain't bad. Just a little blackened is all. Buck kicked everyone out cause he was embarrassed, and cause the fuzz was bound to show at any time. Could you imagine the shit he would've been in with all those minors there?" He shook his head. "Anyway, he kicked us all out, but not before announcing that Quarter Pitcher Night would resume the following night."

"Huh," I said. "He sure is pretty articulate for someone drunk enough to set his own place on fire."

Two-Bit grinned. I swear he must have been proud of me and Johnny for getting as mouthy as we were. "Nah, I added that in myself. You should be proud, Ponygirl! I think you're startin' to rub off on me."

Johnny snorted. "Bad timing. Don't think ya get any dumber."

"Wouldn't that be good timing then?" I asked.

"Does it matter?"

I shrugged but stopped with the joking. We really were starting to sound like Two-Bit. "So where do you think he's goin', then?"

"Sheperd's," Two-Bit answered simply.

"What?" I don't even think I need to explain how bad this could possibly be or why. I'm just not too secure with the fact Angela Shepard is the only person who knows about my pregnancy, other than Maggie. Angela was in a pretty pissed off mood because of what I had said to her, and she isn't exactly known for her tact in such circumstances. If given the chance she is more vengeful than any other girl could possibly ever be, and just because it's me she's angry at wouldn't really change anything. I had less time than I thought. "Why would he go there?"

Two-Bit was completely oblivious to my torment, and so he continued on. "Because one Mr. Curly Shepard informed Mr. Dallas Winston that a certain Mr. Timothy Shepard was lookin' for whoever slashed his tires. Sense Curly caught Dal doin' it, well...ya know how that goes. Tim called Dal out on it, so Dallas is gonna fight him tonight. Dally gotta blade?"

"Don't think so," Johnny answered.

"Good deal." Two-Bit nodded. "Tim'll fight fair if he don't."

"That's it?" That couldn't possibly be it, I thought. This entire situation couldn't possibly be that simple. I had this feeling deep down in my gut, and it felt an awful lot like the feeling I had a few months ago.

"Well, probably not. The party at Buck's pretty much moved to Tim's front yard. Ya know them...they'll duke it out then smoke it up or drink it up. I'll probably head over there myself after I walk you two home."

"Haven't you had enough tonight?" I knew that he hadn't, but I felt I had to ask anyway seeing as how he could barely keep his eyes open for more than a couple of minutes cause he was still so drunk. He was_ still_ drinking, even. That cherry-vodka had yet to run out.

Johnny whispered in my ear, "I dunno how he does it." Me either.

"I never have enough!" Two-Bit proclaimed happily. "I can go 'til the booze dries up."

"Yea, that, or until you get jailed," Johnny said. "Again."

* * *

Darry had just sat the phone back on the receiver when I walked through the front door. "Where've you been?"

"Just out."

"Were you by yourself? Cause you know me and Soda hate that, Ponygirl."

"No." I shook my head. "Johnny and Dally were with me most of the time. Two-Bit walked home with us."

Darry had that cold calculating look. It was annoying. "Walked home from where?"

"Movies." I was sticking to short answers for a reason. I didn't want to be around him longer than I had to. My bedroom called to me and my aching feet, and I wished Darry would just let this go already so I could lie down.

"You missed dinner, ya know? It's been that way since you've started workin', you never makin' it to dinner. It'd be nice to sit down like a family again."

"Well, excuse me if I wanted to do something other than sit around here all day and stare at the wallpaper on my day off!" I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my mouth. I sounded rash and juvenile and immature, and I knew this was about to turn into an argument. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? I don't even know where some of the stuff I've been saying lately comes from.

"Watch your mouth, _kid sister_." I hated the way he emphasized that last bit. It was like he couldn't help but remind me of the position I put him in day by day, how I held him back from life. I didn't need to hear it. I already knew what he thought of me, the reminder was unnecessary. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but it had best change real quick, ya hear me?"

"Sure, Dar. I hear you."

"No one asked you to get that job, Girlie. There's a reason I'm working two jobs, so that you don't have to." He sighed. "You're really starting to worry us, ya know that?"

Another fucking reminder. He would never understand that I needed that job, but I'll never tell him why I do need it. I don't want him to know that I feel lousy and useless just watching him and Soda work to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs while I just meander around doing nothing. I don't want him to know that I've saved up enough money to get out of this house. This ever constant reminder. He wouldn't have to worry about me much longer.

"Night, Darry." I didn't say anything else to him, and I didn't care what else he had to say. I wanted sleep.

* * *

I was having trouble sleeping, again. I guess I was just too full of thoughts tonight. Every couple of hours I would wake up, turn over once or twice, and then as slowly as possible fall back to sleep. This has happened two other times, and by the third time I was almost completely awake. I was hot and sweaty, and I realized that the reason for that was because I had successfully managed to wind myself into a ball of messy covers. After twisting around and untucking limbs I managed to get my legs untangled. My body was cooling down, and it was the greatest relief the world could offer me at the time.

I was nearly asleep again when I heard my bedroom door creak open. I stilled myself, barely breathing, hoping that it was just a figment of my imagination. Then there was nothing, no other noises could be heard, so I exhaled the breath I was holding and relaxed against the mattress. My door creaked again as it was shut. I stifled the groan wanting to escape my throat, too tired to actually make a noise, and too naïve to believe whoever it was would have mercy and just leave me alone if they saw I was asleep.

No such luck. I was fully awake now and could sense the presence hovering in the small space of my room that I had obviously missed before. This is really lousy timing for Darry to want to talk about my attitude, I thought, glad that my back was toward him. I opened my eyes to look out the window, it was still dark, and there was no dawning of light to indicate that it was late enough in the morning for Darry to be up and ready to go to work.

I was about to open my mouth and ask him what he was thinking waking me up this early when I heard a grumbled curse and thought better of it. The voice was not the deeper tenor of my oldest brother but deep still, just roughened into manhood. Definitely not Darry. It wasn't Soda, either, his voice was softer than this and he never cursed. I closed my eyes when I heard footsteps move to the other side of my bed, but opened them again when a body sat heavily on the edge on my mattress and bounced me up a little.

Dally was just sitting there on my bed, starring without really focusing on anything. For some reason that scared me. Dally was the one who was always telling me if I didn't focus then I'd wind up dead, but this just didn't seem like Dally. He didn't have his usual hard edge; instead he seemed to droop everywhere, in his shoulders, his face, his mouth, his eyes. I was almost positive that if I didn't say anything he would spill out onto my floor.

"How did you know I was back in here?" Was the question I asked? Not '_Why are you here?' _or '_What are you doing_?' I was surprised that it hadn't come out as a whisper, and even more surprised that I had found the ability to ask at all. A part of me was convinced this was a dream, maybe that's how.

"Mathews." I had almost forgotten about the party at Tim's. I could smell the pot and the alcohol coming off of him in waves, but for some reason Dallas seemed strangely sober. What had happened between the two of us at the movies became came to me and all of a sudden the fact that Dally was sitting on my bed was making me anxious. I don't think he's ever even been in my room before.

"If…if you need somewhere to sleep, ya already know the couch is yours," I said, thinking that maybe he really was intoxicated and a little mixed up and just needed a nudge of direction. He gave absolutely no clue that he had heard me. I sat up to lean against the headboard, making sure to keep the covers close and covering my stomach. Finally, I asked the one question that was puzzling me this early morning. "Dally…why are you here?"

When he gave no response other than continuing to stare at the wall, it occurred to me that I knew exactly what he was doing here. If the way my stomach was twisting itself into a tight fist gave any indication, then it would be that I was right.

"Do they know?"

"What?"

"Don't play stupid!" He demanded with more energy than he looked capable of at the moment. "Do your brothers know you're knocked up?"

I was going to be sick. "Who told you that?" I don't know why I even asked, it's not like it isn't obvious.

"Apparently," Dally started, freezing into the person I'm most familiar with, "it's the newest gossip goin' around. That friend of yours, Angel, she has some pretty loose lips when she's drunk."

_Since when was I the new gossip? _I silently panicked, clueless to the fact that my secret wasn't so much of a secret anymore. My mind was becoming numb, incapable of grasping that this was actually happening, or at least that it was happening this way. My fingers were slowly uncurling from around my blankets, though, surrendering to the knowledge that the lie was over.

I didn't look at him as I answered. "They don't know. No one in the gang knows."

_For now_.

"It's fucking true? Is that what you're telling me?" I didn't say anything, just closed my eyes and bit my lip, not caring anymore if I was crying. His voice got louder as he continued to swear and get off the bed. I opened them in time to watch him place his forehead on the wall and pull back his fist, ready to punch the wall because he felt it deserved it. If I was a guy I'm pretty certain that I would be taking the wall's place.

"Dally don't!" I pleaded as loudly as I could without actually screaming. "You'll wake Darry and Sodapop."

After a few seconds he finally put his fist down and slouched to the point that the wall seemed to be his only support. It was like someone had vacuumed the fight right out of him. "How long have you been…?"

I said possibly the stupidest thing I could've ever said to him, but I was just being honest. "You should know. You were there."

He turned around so suddenly I wouldn't be surprised if it gave him whiplash. It was the first time he looked at me since he came into my room. I shrunk back at the sheer anger of his expression. "Do you honestly think I gave that much of damn about that night that I'd have written it down in a calendar, Girlie?"

Well, that hurt. My head was banging and my throat seemed dry, but I still said, "Six months…almost six months."

"Shit!" He exclaimed suddenly, hitting himself in the head. Then he was pointing at me. "Ya know, if you was anyone else, anyone of those other broads, I would say you was a lying bitch just out to screw me over like always. Dammit! It's too bad I fuckin' know you, Curtis." That confused me. What did it matter if he knew who I was? Then I remembered what he'd said, and it became all too clear- he didn't consider me to be like those other girls. I didn't know what to make of that, my mind was still numb. "What are you gonna do?"

"Get outta Tulsa."

He snorted. "Well, ain't that just stupid of you?"

I was upset. "What the hell else is there? It's not like I have any options."

"I ain't gonna lie and say I don't want you gone, just to save my own ass when your brothers find out. But that would be really stupid."

I cried a little more because I believed he really felt that way, and it hurt like hell. "Don't worry about them knowing it was you, Dallas. That's not exactly something I want people knowing." A brief flash of something blazed across his face and I know I had struck a nerve, one he thought didn't even exist. He hurt me; I couldn't help but hurt him back. I wiped at my salty wet face. "What about you?" I couldn't help but want to know.

"Do you think I fuckin' know? The only real parents I've ever known were yours, and the good that does for me." He shook his head. "I don't know."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear, and as horrible as it sounds what I wanted to hear right then was all I cared about. I couldn't handle anything he was saying, I couldn't handle _him_. "Just…just get out Dallas."

For once, he didn't argue. He just left.

* * *

_There we are! I'm a little insecure about this one, so please tell me what you think! ;p _

_Oh! Remember the questions at the top! _

_Thanks for reading!_


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, I want to thank everyone for the reviews! They make me happy :]

_A/N: I read your opinions on the pairings and just hope that you'll enjoy the direction this story is heading! But I have another question to ask: what do you think of the characters? Are they staying true or….? _

_A/N2: Also! The first part of this chapter is a bit of self-reflection, but bear through it, it gets better :] And let's all try to remember that this is the 60's, people didn't know about the dangers of smoking or caffeine then while pregnant. _

Oh! And because I haven't done so before: The Outsiders is property of S.E. Hinton…and not me.

-Here's a nice long chapter for ya, so please, be forthcoming with the love ;] Sorry about any grammar/spelling mistakes; I have issues with correcting it.

* * *

**Chapter 9~**

When Dallas left it was only 4:55 in the morning. All of the fear and worry and doubt that had been tormenting me for the last six months were just gone, like a glass of water that was too full then suddenly tipped over. For nearly half a year I had longed for the day when I wouldn't have to bear any of those things again. I held on to that longing like a good dream, you know the kind, the kind that you know you won't be able to remember once you've really woken up. All you know is that you _did_ dream.

But the only thing I felt now was empty.

Sleeping at that point was out of the picture, so I tried picking up where I left off in _A Tale of Two Cities_. It was almost six o'clock now. The sun was starting to come up by the time I realized that I had been reading the same paragraph over and over again. I guess I wasn't really reading it at all, just staring at the page like it would finally start making some sort of sense if I looked at it long enough. It never did. I couldn't understand any of what I was trying to read.

I didn't realize just how tired I was until I stood up to stretch. I was going to have to make sure to go to bed earlier tonight than I usually do unless I want to fall over at work. It's annoyingly weird just how easily I can lay my head on a table or lean back in a chair and take a nap like it was nothing, when last night I couldn't keep my eyes closed to save my own life. _Go figure_. I decided that I may as well get my day started, but first I just wanted to go outside and sit on the porch steps and try to smoke a cigarette like I used to do. I made sure to turn off my alarm clock before I left my room; I had it set to wake me up at seven. I had to be at work by eight today because it was my turn to open up for Dottie, it was early but I don't mind because I like the extra money.

The nightstand that I kept the alarm clock sitting on had an extra door at the top, it was small, very small, and until I started smoking a few years ago I had no idea what to use it for. I slid it open slowly to prevent much noise, wondering why everything seemed so much louder when you were the only person awake, and took out the cigarettes I haven't been able to smoke for some months now. I wiped the small amount of dust and fuzz that had gathered on the top and sides of the pack then brought it up to take a sniff. The smell of stale tobacco lingered in my nose even as I quietly left my room, stepping over areas on the floor that I knew had a creaky board or two, and quickly opened the screen door and stepped out into the early morning.

I really don't know why I bothered staying so concerned with being quiet so I wouldn't wake my brothers- they were both heavy sleepers, and probably wouldn't wake up even if I ran through the house belting _Jailhouse Rock_ at the top of my lungs. Well, maybe not. But I suppose having Dallas Winston sneaking into my room in the wee hours of the morning and accusing me of being pregnant with his kid had me a little paranoid.

I couldn't actually see the sun rise, but I took notice of how the skyline began to brighten, slowly at first, but then quicker as the minutes came and went. It was like God was pouring bleach into the sky, white dominated over the dark and bled the colors to create even more colors, turning dark gray into purples and pinks and oranges. I wished someone was here to share this with me, more importantly I wished Johnny had decided to stay over at our place last night instead of going home and trying to brave his parents. I hated his parents, even more than I hated Dallas, or even _Steve_.

Johnny's house was quiet, which meant his father was passed out drunk and probably his mother, too. It would've been quiet anyway, considering it was so early, but that didn't change the fact Johnny's useless parents were drunks. I never could understand why Johnny didn't just stay with us; it was almost like he couldn't say no to his parents, even though they never asked anything of him. I knew he was looking for some way, somehow, to get those assholes to love him. He couldn't help it, he just wanted them to love him so bad, and that was because he couldn't stop loving them.

It was at this moment that finally made me realize why Johnny considered Dally his hero. Johnny looked up to Dallas because he wants to be like him, but can't. Dally doesn't love anything or anybody, and if Johnny could be the same way then he could finally give up on those losers he calls parents. _But…then maybe he could give up on me, too._

Thinking about Dallas just deepened the emptiness I felt, and also made me feel like what I was remembering was the weirdest thing I could possibly think of at the moment. Though, it seemed to fit.

I was remembering something from when I was six years old. The Oklahoma State Fair was only half an hour away from where we lived and it was the most exciting thing that I had ever heard of. Being only six the swirling thoughts of rides, cotton candy and funnel cake, colorful lights everywhere, and being around so many tiny people that were just my size was enough to send me into a tizzy. I had begged Mom for days to take me, but she never budged. Dad saw how badly I wanted to go, and being Dad, he probably wanted to go just as much as I did. He convinced Mom in that way only he could. My brothers and I could never figure what it was he would do to convince Mom to let us do half the things we were allowed to do; she was strict and commanding, a whole like Darry is now, but she was kind and warm at the same time. Dad acted just the way Soda does now, wild and reckless, living life to the fullest, and not growing up even if you offered him the entire world. Man, how I missed them…

Anyways, on the day I had given up even asking if I could go, Dad had started yelling at 3 o'clock in the afternoon that we had all better hurry it on out to the truck if we really wanted to go to the Fair. It was so random and so exciting, and that day was just about the closest thing to a perfect day that I could remember.

Its strange then that the thing I was remembering now was so insignificant-something that when compared to all the wonderful attractions that I had become busy with and with all the time we had spent together as a family- and just simple.

There was something at one of the stands, bright red and glossy, reflecting the different colors of the lights that were flashing constantly everywhere. I had never wanted a balloon so bad in my life. I had started to shuffle around in my pockets to look for the remaining change I could've swore I had left over from the 50 cents Dad given me and my brothers to spend at the Fair. I began to cry when I couldn't find any, not one dull penny. I had caught Darry's attention with the fuss I was making, and being the ten-year-old big brother he was, he bought it for me to shut me up. But I could tell he was pleased with himself by how happy he had made me.

Darry was so young back then, so carefree and happy, and he was just beginning to really look like our dad. At barely 20 he looked exactly like Dad, and it was almost hard to look at him for awhile after Mom and Dad died. I wonder if that's the way Darry and Soda feel when they look at me; they were convinced I looked just like Mom, but I didn't see it. I think Soda resembles her more than I do, but then again, I often hear people telling me how much I'm starting to look like Sodapop as I get older. Another thing I just didn't see. Sodapop was, in a simple explanation, nearly perfect in appearance, and I'm not stupid enough to believe that I'll ever be as attractive.

Darry tied the balloon around my wrist and that thing went everywhere with me for the next couple of hours; I even avoided riding some of the rides just so I wouldn't have to part with it. I had fallen asleep at some point, I can't really remember, but I guess Dad had carried me back to the truck because the next thing I knew I was waking up between my parents in the front seat as we soared down the highway. Dad always was a fast driver. I had felt my little heart break when we made it home. I had wiggled my way from the seat to stand on my own two legs, and when I started down the walkway I felt something tug at my wrist.

I had forgotten about my balloon, and when I looked down I didn't know what to think. My bright, shiny, beautiful red balloon wasn't what it was such a short time ago. What laid at my feet wasn't a balloon at all, it was nothing more than a shriveled, wrinkled, flat piece of elastic material. It was lacking the air that had made it what it was, what had made it so appealing and special. It was empty.

I felt like that airless balloon, that's the only way I can describe the way I feel right now.

_I think too much_.

I needed to stop thinking so much, I decided while looking at the cigarette wedged between my fingers. When I took that first hit it was like heaven. I could feel the effects immediately as it influenced my system and helped me stay calm. I haven't smoked in months and I was starting to get a little buzzed from the large hits I was taking, especially as I lit up another one. I knew trying to smoke was a bad idea, even before I bent over the porch to throw up. _Stupid pregnancy_! I didn't care; it was worth it, even though it only lasted for a few minutes.

Going back inside I noticed that it was still quiet in the Curtis house, which meant that I was still the only one awake. We have a rule in the house: first one up makes breakfast; the other two clean up and wash the dishes. I used to love to cook, and I still do, but working at the Dingo made me hate to serve people when I didn't have to, some days I even hated being around food. All for the better, though. If it were up to Sodapop we'd be having chocolate cake, and I still haven't really gotten over my aversion to it just yet. Throwing up once this morning was quite enough. I was sick of eggs and bacon, so I settled on making French toast and sausage links. I guess I wasn't really paying attention (which, according to Darry and Dally, isn't anything new) and made more than I had originally intended; I ended up using an entire new loaf of bread. Good thing we all eat like pigs in this family, and I'm pretty sure the rest of the gang would be stopping by, so it wouldn't be going to waste.

It had just turned ten after seven, Darry would be up soon. I decided to do him a favor by having coffee made when he woke up. He really does work too hard. Even with Soda having a fulltime job and me having a part-time job, Darry still has to work two jobs. It really isn't fair. It makes me feel horrible about the argument we had last night, horrible about all the arguments we've ever had. I should really cut him some slack, I mean, things happen that cause people to act certain ways even if that's not the way they want to act. Darry having to work so much and take the responsibility of me and Soda and give up going to college…it has to wear him out. And I know that being tired all the time will cause you to be just a little more than intolerable at times. Still, I couldn't help but notice the content he holds for me in his icy blue-green eyes. He might not hate me, but he hates the way I've halted his life, and I believe that's why he's so bitter. But he needs to cut me some slack too, it's not like I asked Mom and Dad to be killed.

I pray to God that I will never blame my baby for how my life turned out, not for anything.

I really needed to take a shower before my brothers get up. Darry doesn't usually shower in the mornings, he takes his at night to wash off all the sweat and grime from roofing houses and says that the hot water does wonders for his pulled muscles. Soda is a different story; he'll take two showers, in the morning to wake him up and when he gets home to wash off all the car grease and oil, but the problem is that he takes absolutely forever. I swear, he's worse than a girl, and I would know because I'm one of those who like to take their time and primp.

It was late enough in the morning to not really be so concerned with how quiet I was being-my brothers needed to wake up anyway-and so I wasn't so cautious when I went to my room to grab my uniform; I just had it traded in for a bigger size, probably bigger than what was necessary, but I didn't want to ask Dottie every month or two for a new one. It was a typical waitress garb: a one piece dress that stopped a little above the knee and white with red strips and red buttons that started at the bust line and went all the way to the waist, and ruffles underneath it to make it look like a poofy 50's get-up. The good part about the uniform was the large red apron that went over it. Normally, the apron would be form fitting, but I convinced Dottie that I was really insecure about all the extra weight I had put on. So she gave me a much appreciated extra large, big enough to cover my belly because all that was left was a men's size in case a new cook was hired.

A woman came in the Dingo for dinner one day a couple of weeks ago, she was pregnant and said she was only 5 months, but she looked so much bigger than me and I was almost 6 months along. Compared to her I didn't even look pregnant. Maybe that's how I was getting by for as long as I was. I was angry suddenly. Why am I still putting myself through all this trouble to hide when it was made very clear last night that people already knew everything?

_Oh, yea...because I'm a chicken that can't tell her own brothers, that's why_.

The spray of the water wasn't as hot as I usually liked it, but it was still relaxing all the same. I stepped out and finished getting ready. I was leaning in towards the mirror with my mouth open in a big 'O' shape- I don't know why, but it helps me with putting eye makeup on- and had just started applying mascara when I heard Soda pounding on the bathroom door.

"Come on, Girlie! Hurry it up, would ya?"

"I'm almost finished!"

"Hurry up!" He shouted again. I could tell he just woke up by the tone of his voice; it was the only time he yelled like that. But somehow he even made yelling sound cheerful, kind of like Dallas can always make everything sound angry.

"I'm goin' as fast as I can, Soda! Don't get your panties in a twist." I heard him chuckle behind the door. "I made breakfast. Go eat while I finish."

"Just don't take too long, okay, Baby? We all gotta get ready for work in this house."

He was gone by the time I started applying mascara to my other eye. I finished about two minutes later then tied my hair up with a red ribbon before I opened the door. I looked across the hall to see that Soda had gone back to his room and was already asleep again. I went over to him and shook him a little. "Come on, Soda. The bathroom's free." When he gave me a grumbled 'okay' I left him. I wanted to eat, and as much as I love the Dingo's food I'm beginning to get sick of it.

I had to pass through the living room to get to the kitchen and I saw Two-Bit, like any other time, snoring away on my couch. _He must have got here while I was in the shower. Kinda late to be crawling back from a party, even for him_. I just shrugged and continued on to the kitchen.

Darry was out of bed, but I couldn't really say he was awake. He was sitting at the breakfast table with his head lying next to an empty coffee cup, shirtless and only in his underwear. His nearly black hair was ungreased (he didn't wear much of it anyway, just a little to keep it tame) and sticking up in different directions, and that mixed with how his cheek was squished because of his head laying the way it was on the table, made him look so much younger, like his own age. His arms were even hanging limply to his sides, nearly brushing the floor, and I would've laughed at the image he was making if it weren't for the way his eyebrows were pinched together-he was in pain, even in his sleep. I wanted to cry for him, but I didn't.

I reached over him to grab his cup and then poured him some coffee. I sat down the coffee and just looked at his face for a moment, trying to see if there were any features that we shared. Our lips were exactly the same, full and dark pink, and we both had pointed cheekbones. But that was about it. He looked like Dad, Soda looked like Mom, and I guess I was a mixture of both our parents (mostly Mom, though). My oldest brother sure was handsome, I'd have to admit. Soda was extremely good-looking, like a movie star, and you could go as far as to say he's beautiful. Darry was beautiful, too, but in a different way; he was a rugged and manly type of handsome. If it weren't for Darry's cold eyes and the fact that he never smiled he would be just as good-looking as Sodapop.

"Darry."

"Hmm?" He grunted.

"Ya know…a kitchen table is no place for a grown man to fall asleep."

He sat up quickly, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing. "I'm not sleepin'. I'm up." I outright laughed at him, something I would never dream of doing any other time, but I just couldn't help it. Darry was struggling to keep his head up and he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. If it wasn't for his height and bulging muscles I would've said he looked like a little kid.

"Sure you are, Darry. That's why there's drool on the table." I really couldn't help teasing him, despite the fact that I felt bad for him, cause let's be honest, how many times will I ever be able to do this?

He cracked one eye open to glare half-heartedly at me. "Shut it."

I rolled my eyes and ignored his threat. "I made breakfast, as you can see. Want me to fix you a plate?"

"Sure," Darry said, nodding his head heavily. "Think you could…"

"Heat up the syrup?"

The right corner of his mouth tilted up. "Yea"

The syrup was already sitting in the microwave ready to be heated. Darry didn't even have to ask; all three of us liked our syrup the same way, hot and buttery. I put a good-sized amount of French toast and sausage on a plate, and then when the syrup was finished I sat it on the table and placed the plate of food into the microwave.

Darry yawned loudly, moving his arms slowly to stretch above his head, but quickly put them back down with a silent groan. He rotated his shoulder, trying to ease a muscle I knew he couldn't reach.

"You pulled another muscle again yesterday, didn't you?"

"It ain't bad."

I shook my head. "You're lying. You can't even stretch without wincing. I thought you said you wasn't gonna try and haul two bundles of roofin' at a time no more."

"Ponygirl," his voice took on that strict like quality, "drop it."

"You _did_ promise you wouldn't, Darry." I couldn't leave it alone, I never could; if he could worry about me, then I sure as anything could worry about him, too. "I just don't want to have to worry about you. One day you're gonna hurt yourself because you're so hardheaded and won't listen to anybody. I just…don't want you hurt."

He grabbed my hand, and his much larger calloused hand dwarfed my smaller smooth one. "Listen, Girle. You may not know it, but I promise you that I know my limits. I know how much I can push myself."

"You shouldn't have to be pushin' yourself, though…" I started to say more, but I didn't know how to. I was afraid that if I did say more than I would ruin this moment we were having, and let me tell you, this moment was one in a million, and I doubt we'd be having another one so soon.

"You're right."

I smirked at him. "Well, yea."

"Don't get cocky, kid," he shook his head, "I swear, you're actin' more and more like Two-Bit every day."

I pretended to be offended. "Oh, no, don't say that! I might just have to stop talkin' all together if that were true."

"That ain't such a bad idea."

I opened my mouth in disbelieving amusement; were we really joking around with each other? We haven't had many normal conversations since our folks died. He smirked at me then let go of my hand. "I won't try to haul two bundles no more."

"Really?"

He simply nodded, then when microwave dinged I placed his food in front of him. "I heard somethin' pretty interesting about you this morning."

I hated jumping to conclusions, but taking into consideration everything that's happened in the past couple of days I couldn't really control it. I hope I don't stay like this forever, always assuming the worst of everything. "Great. I just love to be considered interesting," I said, trying to sound as offhanded as possible. I didn't know where this was going, but judging by the way Darry wasn't rocketing through the roof had me convinced that this wasn't about me being pregnant.

"Uh-huh," he replied before taking a sip of steaming coffee, not caring for my sarcasm one bit, "apparently there was a _date_ goin' on last night that I had no idea about."

I'm not sure how I looked at the moment, but I'm pretty sure it was reminiscent of a bump on a log. "What are you talkin' about?" Then it clicked and I could feel my face heating up several different shades of red. "Oh."

"Why didn't you say anything about going on a date? Did Soda know?"

"Soda didn't know,_ I _didn't even know. It wasn't supposed to be a date, I mean, it just…sorta happened." My shoulders rose sheepishly. It was the truth.

"So…" He cleared his throat, looking entirely uncomfortable, "are you two…are you and Johnny dating?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Well, do you want to be dating?"

My mouth opened and closed a few times before I could answer. It's not like I didn't know what I wanted, but it was weird to actually talk about it with someone. Even weirder considering this was Darry. I decided that nodding would be the best thing I could do.

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're too young to date," he muttered, but he wasn't talking to me, more so to himself.

I decided to respond anyway. "I ain't that young."

He gave me a look that said '_are you kidding me?_' "You're sixteen, Girlie."

"Right." It's ironic we were talking about me being too young to date; I wonder what he'd think if he knew I was going to be a mother. For a moment the idea of telling him was funny. "And you and Soda were both fourteen when you started dating."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"Be careful."

I could understand where he's coming from, I really could, but I've grown up with boys my whole life (not the best bunch of boys, either) and I know exactly what they want, what they'll try, and how to protect myself, even if I am still a little naïve in some areas. But the boy in question couldn't even say 'Boo!' to a goose, much less be a threat in anyway. "Darry…" I shook my head, finding this whole thing a little bit silly, "it's Johnny."

Darry never did have to work at looking serious. "Right, it's Johnny. So I'm tellin' you again to _be careful_."

He wasn't trying to protect me, he was warning me. I got it then- I had the power to absolutely destroy Johnny Cade.

Suddenly, I didn't find anything silly anymore.

* * *

All the waitresses at the Dingo had to roll thirty bundles of silverware before they were allowed to leave- it kept things moving. If someone was seated at one of your tables and you didn't have any silverware to hand them, then you would be set back a minute or two with a customer, which usually made them angry. When a customer is angry then you don't get tipped very well, or at all, and that's where a waitress gets her money. So Dottie made sure we always had some ready. Even if you had finished rolling your thirty, if you didn't have a table to wait on, then that's what you were expected to be doing. After months of working here I've become a pro. Knife, fork, and then spoon: it's like a mantra.

I was working on number twenty-five, watching a pair of girls at one of the corner booths. "You think they're talkin' about me?"

Molly looked up just in time to see one of the girls sneak a glance at me then turn back to her friend and start whispering. Molly isn't one to beat around the bush. "Probably."

"What am I going to do?"

Molly sighed in an exasperated fashion; she's had to hear me ask the same question at least a million other times, I've pretty much wore it out. She continued rolling as she said, "You know what you should do."

I shook my head. "I can't."

"You're gonna have to stop this, Ponygirl. There's nothing else you _can_ do. You're not gonna be pregnant forever. I know you live with a bunch of clueless boys, but I'm pretty sure they'll notice whenever you suddenly come home with a screaming newborn." I knew she was right, but that didn't make the situation any less scary, or any easier to talk about. I forgot I haven't told her that I plan on leaving soon-she's a mother herself, and I knew she would do what she considered was the right thing and tell Darry. I've had to beg her once to not say anything, to let it all come from me. She shook her head. "I still can't believe you've managed this long without your brothers suspecting anything."

"I'm never home anymore…and neither are they. We all work. No one has time to listen to the rumor mill. When I'm not at work I'm in my room asleep. As far as they're concerned I've just gotten fat."

She gave me a once over. "Yea, you don't really look pregnant. I wouldn't have guessed if I didn't already know."

"Always been small." I shrugged.

"Maybe. But you've gotten pretty good at hiding, too." She stood up to get refills for one of her tables. "Won't be long now that you'll be able to get by with it. You'll get bigger, and rounder, and trust me when I say that a woman in her third trimester can't hide much."

That was truer than what you'd think, went further than appearance. It didn't matter how good I used to be at hiding my emotions, now I couldn't keep anything to myself. My heart was always on my sleeve, and let me tell you, it wasn't voluntary. If someone was being funny, but kind of annoying, usually you could smile and ignore it. Nope. Not anymore. Having secrets was a thing of the past, at least for a few more months.

I watched those girls pay their bill then leave the dinner, and then gathered my silverware to put on a tray under both registers where we keep them. Maggie wasn't gone long. "I've brought you somethin'."

I was surprised. "Really?"

"Yep." She clocked out for break and I did the same. We had forty-five minutes. "Follow me." I did, and she led me to the back where employees could keep their belongings. A big brown grocery bag was shoved in my arms.

"You got me food? Couldn't you just buy me a shake and some fries?" I joked.

"Very funny, smart-ass," she said, but I could tell she was amused. "My little girl lost her first tooth yesterday so I went diggin' through my closet to find her baby book and ended up finding these." I shifted the bag so that it rested in only one of my arms against my hip and looked inside. I pulled out a shirt and couldn't help but notice how big it was. "It's my old maternity clothes. Most of 'em hasn't even been worn but once or twice," she said, smiling at the memory like it was the happiest time of her life. "I didn't work while I was pregnant, so most of the time I just loafed around in my pajamas."

Many times when I was a little girl I would hear my mom and Mrs. Mathews (they were good friends since high school, that's how we've known Two-Bit for so long) talk about how some lady they knew was pregnant, how that lady was "absolutely glowing". I've read that same phrase in books as well, but I could never really picture how a woman that was supposed to be fat and swollen and moody all day long for nine lousy months was considered glowing. Being pregnant myself hasn't helped me understand any better. But that's the only way I can describe the way Molly looked right now. She wasn't looking at me, but I could still see her eyes- they were seeing something I couldn't, some kind of memory-and they held such adoration. Her face had softened and her lips tugged upwards. I've seen my mom look at me and my brother's that way, but no one else, she didn't even look at my dad that way. He had his own look, and we had ours. Now, Molly had it. _Would I ever have it_?

"Were you happy?"

"Hmm?" I felt bad for interrupting whatever thought she was having. "Happy?"

"Were you…" I held up the light blue blouse I was looking at, "happy?"

She shook her head me and a smirk replaced the small smile on her lips. "Yes, Girlie, I was happy. But it wasn't always that way. I was scared a lot of the time and confused, worried too."

"Oh." I nodded and looked back at the clothes so I wouldn't have to look at her.

"You could be happy, too, ya know. You've got nothing to lose anymore, but there's a whole lot to gain. You're scared, I know, I really do…but you can't keep goin' on like this. It's not about you anymore."

"Having secrets is a thing of the past," I whispered, thinking back to when I watched those girls leaving.

"Exactly."

* * *

Molly and I ordered lunch, but I really didn't feel like eating so I just sort of sat there and nibbled at my fries. I didn't replay what's happened the last couple of months in my head, and I didn't think about my brothers, but I _did_ think about my baby. There really was nothing left to do. I may not have been a kid long enough, but I've been acting childish for far too long. It was time to grow up, at least where a few people were concerned.

There were a few minutes left of my break, so I decided to make the most of what ever little bit of determination I had and use it. As I picked up the phone I had only two things on my mind: _Molly was right and I love my baby_.

The phone rang three times before someone answered. "_Hello?"_

I knew he'd be at my house. "Hey, Johnny."

"_Girlie, everything okay? Ain't you supposed to be working_?"

I gulped, and somehow I managed to wrap the phone cord around my fingers so tightly they were becoming numb. "Yea, yea, everything's fine." The air must have swept out of me in one big whoosh. "Listen…do you think you can come down here? I'll buy you lunch."

"_Sure. That sounds real nice."_

He sounded so happy. I hated what I was about to do to him. "Good. There's…there's something I need to tell you. It's real important, so…so make sure none of the gang comes with you, alright?"

There was a silent pause before he answered. "_I'll be down in 20 minutes." _

"I'll see you then. I need to go for now, my break's over."

"_Are you sure everything's okay?"_

I bit my lip then mumbled, "They will be," before hanging up the phone and pretending like I didn't just call Johnny, like he wasn't about to come down here so I can break his heart.

Then I clocked back in. My break was over.

* * *

_There she is! Sorry it took so long! But I've been SUPER busy. I promise I won't take that long again :] _

_Please review! I would love your thoughts on the characters. _


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